Monster Party Book 1: I hunt therefore I am
by James Firecat
Summary: A group of unusual adventurers wind up getting ship wrecked on an even more unusual island.
1. Chapter 1

Monster Party Book 1: I hunt, therefore I am!

Chapter one: Yeah, never thought I'd be on a boat

FN: (Firecat Note) Welcome one and all old fans of my work alike, I'm proud to say that I've started work something brand new. This story like every "Monster Party" story I post will be based on an adventure from the Ravenloft setting. When the story is done I'll let you know which one so you can try and find the book yourself and read it if you're interested.

Captain Eli Stewart of the good ship Sunset Empires settled down into his seat in the small cabin and gazed long and hard at the man before him. In his history as a ship captain he'd taken on some disreputable passengers in his day, but this fellow... Well he didn't exactly take the cake but he was up there that was for sure.

"So how many passengers would you be bringing with you exactly Mr... Diamondclaw was it?" The captain asked dubiously.

The man said his name was Alexander Diamondclaw, which was a mouthful, (and likely an untrue mouthful at that) but it would hardly have been the first time he'd have ferried people away from a port before some aggrieved local lawman, husband, father, brother, mother, or other relation caught up wit them.

Alexander didn't quite seem the type for that though, those types tended to be shaky, nervous, and subsequently easy to shake down. Mr. Diamondclaw on the other hand had a face which gave away next to nothing. It didn't help that he wore a black eye patch over his right eye which meant if Stewart tried to focus in his single visible green eye to see how it reacted his keen observation would be quite easy to spot.

Aside from calm manners Alexander Diamondclaw's salient feature was that he was simply too... neat.

He was dressed in a midnight black outfit with a couple of intricate and strange looking silver symbols on it. If a man could afford an outfit as fancy as that then he should have been able to buy his way out of any trouble he got himself into.

Not only that but his hair which was an absurd shade of silver and was worn far longer than the local custom. It would have been laughable, if it weren't for the fact that few people were prone to laughing at a man who had to be over six feet tall and had a sword of similar length strapped over his shoulder.

"It will be myself an four companions. If it will help put your mind I'd be more than willing to also tell you what cargo I plan to bring with me." Alexander offered.

"It would at that." The captain declared at once.

"Life at see is plenty dangerous on its own. The last thing I need is for passengers to be bringing more ways to damage my vessel on board." The captain growled.

Alexander leaned back in his seat slightly.

"We won't be bringing anything dangerous with us I can assure you of that.. Simply a minor mystical bauble to be returned to its owner. Well that and what remains of a dear friend to myself and those who are traveling with me. Before they passed away they made it clear that they wished to be buried in their ancestral graveyard alongside their fore bearers." Alexander admitted.

Captain Stewart's eyes suddenly blazed with excitement. Now, now he finally had that smarmy cycloptic bastard exactly where he wanted him.

"Passed away of what? No doubt some horrific and horribly contagious disease! Plague's will already spread like wildfire on a ship what with the rats everywhere, I've seen ones that have to be at least two feet long at times If you think you can bring some rotting festering corpse aboard my ship without paying extra for it you're out of your mind!" The captain exclaimed while slamming a hand forcefully on the table.

Alexander Diamondclaw however kept his face completely neutral.

"If you must know the friend in question perished from blood loss after being wounded. If you can find a way to have that particular condition spontaneously spread from man to man then my dear captain there are countless generals who would pay you a king's ransom for your unique skill. As for the rats..." Alexander clasped his black gloved hands together his single eye fixing Stewart with a deep stare.

"The magical item in question, it was designed by a mage who spent much of his time at sea I have been told. It generates an aura of fear that only strikes rodents, but it is so powerful that rats wold prefer to throw themselves overboard into the ocean rather than remain close to the thing.

It's hardly an artifact of device of world shaking power, but can assure you that by journey's end there will not be a single rat left alive on board your ship." Alexander promised.

"Not a single rat?" The Captain repeated the phrase, he had little enough love or trust for magic, but he had even less for the rats which perpetually plagued his vessel.

"Would you care to make a wager on that particular boast? Say if it succeeds I won't charge you any extra for your unusual baggage. If not then your fair is doubled!" Captain Stewart did not even try to fight back a smug smile of his own at the brilliance of this wager as he was bound to benefit no matter its result.

"Done." Alexander replied with such quickness that the Captain couldn't help but momentarily second guess himself wondering if he had missed some key facet of the deal.

"Also the nature of your companions? I don't have anything against a man who swings a sword, but its bad enough that I'll be having some arcane doodad on board if you tell me that there will be actual spell slingers as well and all the ill fortune that comes with them..." The Captain did not bother to complete the statement.

By now both he and Alexander knew that since the Sunset Empires was one of the very few ships leaving this port for the next month it behooved the pair to come to an agreement rather than Alexander being delayed for quite some time and Captain Stewart being denied an opportunity to extract a great price from a man who had precious little other choice in the matter.

"Don't worry, there are no magicians, god botherers, sorcerers, or other wielders of mystical power be it of divine or arcane nature among my companions. Just a delightful botanist, an quick witted elf who has quite a way with numbers, a rather rambunctious young man whose exuberance for life causes me to forgo his follies and an alchemist." Alexander concluded, though both men instantly knew that his words had offered Captain Stewart a target too tempting to refuse.

"An alchemist? Some doddering old fool who'll want to practice his craft on board my ship no doubt! It'll be a toss up if he manages to burn the ship up like a box of tinder and we all get roasted alive or he blows a big enough hole in my vessel that we'll sink and drown instead!" Captain Stewart blustered.

"The alchemist in question is a long way from a doddering old fool, and he knows better than to practice his craft in conditions as unsuited to it as a sea voyage. If it wold put your mind at ease though the five of us could put forward as much as you would normally charge six people for the crossing." Alexander offered.

"Ten people!" Stewart countered instantly, which would be quite a windfall indeed given that he was already charging Mr. Diamondclaw and his associates three times as much for the journey as he normally did passengers.

"Let us say seven and I will wager you triple that against no payment for our cargo if your ship is rat free by the time we reach port." Alexander suggested as a counter counter offer.

Captain Stewart considered it, and then slowly extended his hand. At the very least twenty one normal passengers worth of payment for only five mouths needing to be fed, the Sunset Empires might just make him a rich man yet!

(Scene Break)

"You realize he's taking you to the cleaners don't you Alexander?" Insisted a blue haired female elf in azure dress as she stood in the shadow of the Sunset Empires.

Coiled about one wrist of the brown eyed elf maiden was a most unladylike like flail (though it was of the non spiked variety) and if you looked closely at her vermillion gloves once might notice slight bulges at the knuckle of each finger.

"He is at that Devi." Alexander noted dryly.

"On the other hand, within this town resides some some poor, in a non-monetary sense of course, old ex-adventurer who honestly believe his illnesses are being caused by the curse of a wizard he robbed years and years ago instead of the guillotine sharp hands of time. So in the interest of putting his mind at rest, and his money to good use, we're taking him to the cleaners in the process of delivering what he stole back to the mage in question." Alexander noted wryly.

"That's life for you, everybody gets taken to the cleaners, and yet nothing ever gets clean." Reflected a man following in Alexander's wake.

He had dirty blond hair, and was dressed in a dark brown cloak though it was just possible to make out a pair of pants of the same color navy blue shirt with red tie beneath it. His cold blue eyes were accented by a pair of similarly colored lenses.

This man and Devi were alike in height, bot a bit above average and thus noticeably shorter than Alexander. At the moment his hands were both full carrying a large ornate wooden coffin from the front though he had a well made firearm strapped across his back.

"Just try to make sure we don't end up getting dirty okay Cal? I can't see where we're going." Piped up a voice from the other end of the of their shared burden.

Supporting the back half of the coffin was another male figure this one of a decidedly of wiry build and somewhat less than average height who seemed to have just recently entered into adulthood. He was dressed in a dramatic bright red outfit with a red vest, pants, shows and wide brimmed hat of similar color. His green eyes flitted this way and that struggling to see much other than the burden before him.

"I hope the kids haven't been misbehaving while I was away Alex..." Asked a second woman who approached the small procession carrying a few sacks strung over her back.

She was dressed in a rather outlandish green leotard like outfit which was adorned with many flowers and vines. The "woman" in question looked human at a distance, but up close there was the tiny matter of how her skin had a noticeable green tint to it, or how her blond hair seemed to be made of carefully woven thatch.

Alexander's expression brightened from dour to simply stoic as she approached him.

"On and off again Florence, same as always. I take it you've got all the supplies we need?" Alexander inquired.

"That and more with any luck. As I'm sure Devi will be happy to hear I followed her shopping list to the letter." Florence answered.

As for the elf woman in question, she shrugged with feigned indifference.

"Sea voyages are always risky things, best to be prepared for every possible situation wouldn't you agree Sir? After all, one thing I am certain of is that I've never been on an adventure yet where a few dozen yards of good strong rope doesn't prove useful." Devi reminded them.

(Scene Break)

Captain Stewart looked down the plank leading up to the deck of his ship as the five passengers who would be coming along on this voyage approached.

"What exactly is she?" He demanded staring angrily at the strange green skinned woman before him.

"She..." Alexander growled back sounding not at all pleased by the accusation implicit in Stewart's comments.

"Is Florence Bastien. She's a dryad, a nature spirit primarily of forest and thicket, but sailing on wooden ships has not overly discomforted her. Why do you ask captain, do you have some sort of problem with the women onto whom I bestow what meager affections I am capable of feeling?" The adventurer demanded.

Captain Stewart was wrong footed by that reply, back at the bargaining table every time he had tried to put one over on the silver haired man his foe in negotiation had worked hard to hide any sign of anger. Now however, now that anger was as evident as the longsword strapped to Alexander's back. It was still sheathed for the moment, but all the same its existence could not be denied.

It was clear that if he answered wrongly here Stewart might loose not just the fee from Alexander's passage, but possibly a great deal more as well. Alexander and the other still still had their feet on solid ground, best to give him what he wanted.

"A problem? I have none, I was only worried that my ship, which is after all only a simple traveling vessel might not be equipped to cater to her needs." Captain Stewart even went so far as to throw a slight bow in Florence's direction.

Alexander relaxed considerably and then turned a gloved hand in the direction of his others followers.

"Don't worry, she is made of far hardier stuff than most suspect. With that matter out of the way, no time like the present to take care of introductions I believe. This elf is Devi Skye, who handles the necessary maters of provisions and supplies. After all, no adventurer can slay the beast or rescue the maiden if they have not water to drink or food to eat first. Carrying the coffin which holds the remains of our departed friend are Callan Wright..." Alexander began before being interrupted.

"Call me 'Cal' captain if you would be so kind." Insisted Mr. Wright before relenting to let his superior finish what he had begun.

"Whatever name he may go by, he is a master mixer of potions and tinctures. His steady hands also make him something of an expert at working his weapon of choice as I'm sure you might have guessed. Finally last, but certainly not least is James Kantrar. Where Cal's hands are sure, then James' are the most nimble I have ever encountered. He can spot a trap from mile away and disarm it with equal ease." Alexander concluded.

"Nimble hands..." Captain Stewart sniffed making a mental note to make sure this young man never got anywhere near his private chest.

Alexander could try to dress it up however he wished, but he'd bet the entire Sunset Empires against a single copper coin that James' 'nimble hands' had a habit of working their way into other people's pockets. Right now he was glad the appendages in question were busy supporting a coffin (hard to imagine anything could make him feel glad to have a coffin with a body in it on board his ship) rather than left to roam free, though he knew this happy state of affairs would not last.

"Very well then, my first mate Mr. Monterey, will take you to the section of the hold I've set aside for your baggage." Stewart explained.

He wasn't giving these adventurer's baggage a separate room out of the goodness of his heart, far from it. He wanted as much space between their no doubt cursed magical talisman and their supposedly infection free corpse and the rest of his cargo as possible.

Mr. Monterey was a blond half elf who much like Alexander wore an eye patch over his right eye, though Stewart knew the truth behind that patch. It was just there to help his second in command transition from the bright conditions aboard ship to the dark ones below (a task even a half-elf might find daunting otherwise) more swiftly rather than covering up a deformity or injury.

Monterey was reliable as the day was long, and given Stewart's lack of offspring (or even the possible prospect of offspring) at the moment, he would probably end up captaining the ship once Stewart was no longer fit to. Assuming of course the captain lived long enough to get tired with sailing, otherwise he had a magically verified parchment serving as his will which clearly stated that the ship was to be torn apart, burnt to ash and buried as close to Captain Eli Stewart's body as possible and Monterey had witness its creation personally.

Misses Stewart hadn't raised any fools, that was for certain. The pointed eared fake one eyed first mate would outlive his current captain weather or not he hurried along the process, but all the same best not to give him any incentive take maters into his own hands. If a sea captain wanted to have a chance to die in a nice warm bed on dry land he had to be as cruel as the sea itself, and canny as a fox!

(Scene Break)

Once Alexander and his companions were safely on board the ship's anchors were undone and Sunset Empires got herself underway. As the shoreline faded away Captain Stewart turned his attention to two tasks in particular. The first was nursing from a well stocked hip flask, and the second was using his tongue to flay the hide off any man he saw slacking.

Not that Stewart was any more soft spoken when it came to passengers who earned his ire of course.

"Just what do you think you're doing you pus bleeding, blood-tainted son of baaezu? I've seen open sores that have more brains than you, and I'll see you at the gates of Baator before I let you endanger my crew by acting upon some fool notion that must popped into your head, though why it didn't fall right out the other ear I'll never know!" Stewart raved as he seized James Kantrar by the wrist.

In addition to his passengers the Sunset Empires was transporting a black leopardess that some rich idiot wanted shipped to them so that they could hunt the thing. Personally, that fop could commit illicit sexual actions upon the beasty for Captain Stewart cared. What mattered was that the Sunset Empires had to transport the creature to its new home first.

So the creature in question was currently being kept in a cage that was carefully tied down to the deck of the ship.

"Listen lad, I've paid for some of the finest iron-working I could afford to be done to keep that thing locked up. But however strong the bars of the cage that held the creature, it still had one noticeable design flaw, THE CAGE HAD TO BE KEPT CLOSED!" Captain Stewart announced loudly enough for the entire ship to hear him.

At the moment the cage door in question it was secured in place by a simple latch and bolt system that would be quite secure against anything lacking a prehensile thumb. What it wouldn't stand up to was idiotic passengers who seemed bound and determined to release the foul tempered feline upon them all.

"Look, it's hurt..." The youngster pleaded sounding strangely touched when it came to the plight of the foul tempered leopard.

On the other hand, if he thought it was a good idea to let the thing free he might just simply be touched in the head.

"I saw one of your men jabbing it with a jagged piece of wood, that's why her belly is bleeding..." He spluttered out an explanation.

Captain Stewart has going to have none of it.

"I suppose you feel just a bit upset over that? You think I should punish my men for seeking a little pleasure where they can while they are so very far away from home? Tell you what, maybe you'd like it better if I put you in the ship's boat and set you adrift, then you could be its captain and rule over it as you saw fit!" Stewart spat derision like a cobra did venom.

"Lay off James, he's our good luck. Besides, in this case he's right." Announced a voice from behind the captain.

Stewart spun around still keeping a grip tight on the forearm he had seized to find himself face to face with Cal Wright now.

"What's this? Have I taken on board an entire ship full of dandelion sniffers? I suppose it's either that, or you mutiny runs through each of your veins, if you insist upon disobeying orders given by the captain of the vessel you travel upon. I know I told each and every one of you when you first came on board not to touch the leopard's cage, and then I find this rascal doing exactly that!" He screamed.

The alchemist seemed to be far less discomforted by Stewart's tongue lashing than the young man had been though.

"Oh I couldn't care a wooden copper about what happens to that mangy sack of fur and bile. If it rolled over and died right here and now I'd be quite happy to see it shuffle off this mortal coil.

It would mean whatever scant meat rations you had set aside for it could instead be given to your crew and in turn an even scantier amount of it to you passengers No, it's not an issue of compassion, it's an issue of money.

I am getting paid, oh I don't know, nothing if the leopard dies and a great big fat, whopping zero if if it lives to get delivered successfully In your case captain, I am willing to bet that there's a noticeable discrepancy between that first and second figure though. If that leopard which was given to you in at least passable health is dead when we pull into port, well I'm sure a man of your brilliance can figure out what will, or won't happen next.

Now it seems to me that my friend was trying to secure you a fair bit of money by keeping that leopard alive. He was doing it in his usual 'who needs to measure when I can just keep cutting till it looks right?' manner, but he meant well.

That said, James maybe you should head down to the hold and get Florence, she knows a lot more about bandaging wounds than you do." Cal suggested in a gentle tone of voice.

Captain Stewart was about to protest, but he was momentarily confused by the discovery that all of a sudden he was holding a hand full of nothing.

Not just nimble fingers, young Mr. Kantrar seemed to be as supple as an eel when it wanted to be.

Either way he threw off a quick salute to his fellow adventurer and then skittered across the deck with remarkable celerity.

"Seems he got his sea legs faster than I would have expected." Stewart admitted coming as close to a compliment for that redhead as he planed to for the rest of the voyage.

"I'm not surprised. If your line of work involved needing to disarm poison needle traps with hare's breath triggers on a regular basis then you also might develop a very keen sense for exactly how much weight you were going to put on any part of your body at any given time. That, or you might perish to one of the countless different poisons that people tend to coat their traps in.

I've seen some truly terrifying ones you know, one of my 'favorites' was called 'burnt othur fumes' it weakens a man's bones you see. Not overly much at first, but with repeated doses, well a fellow will try to stand up and he'll fall over while his bones are torn right through his skin. Not sure I'll ever forget the sound of that poor man's screaming... By the way, do you know how long it will be till the dinner bell is rung?" The alchemist concluded in an utterly dispassionate tone of voice.

Captain Stewart knew what Cal was trying to do of course, it was the old grisly story into foodstuff related matters surprise segway. If he'd seen the ship's cook Old Singe pull it off once he'd seen him do it a thousand times.

Captain Stewart was not going to let himself be distracted into a visceral reaction which made him forget just how upset he was with that idiotic flee brained passenger any time soon. In fact, he'd prove that point by matching this fellow tale for tale!

"Not for a few hours yet. It's important that we wait to eat our big meals until after the sharks are done feasting. Otherwise, when all the offal from the cooking gets tossed overboard the monsters will start to swarm the ship.

Sometimes they just ram into it again and again until it sinks so that they can have their way with the entire crew. Other times the vessel is luckier and instead a shark will just leap out of the water, land on deck and wiggle about crushing everything within reach with its jaws. Have you ever seen what a man looks like after a shark is done with him?

Not enough left to call him a man at that point, more like a pile of blood and bone loosely strung together. We need to push what's left overboard straight away or else even more sharks are drawn to it, not that it does much good if some of them are already feeling vicious enough to leap on board in the first place..."

(Scene Break)

James Kantrar wisely chose to remain below deck in the hold for almost the entire rest of the day and the evening as well. Even the ringing of the dinner bell did not summon him, not that the food being served has much in the way to recommend it beyond pure and simple edibility.

As the sky filled with stars, and it became impossible to keep an effective eye out for suddenly approaching obstacles the ship dropped anchor touches of serenity began to descend upon the Sunset Empires.

Captain Stewart retried early to his private corridors intent to finish the bottle he'd been working on all day and perhaps get acquainted with a few of its friends as well.

His first mate of course remained topside just to make sure that nothing so raucous as to endanger the ship took place. Not that he had much to worry about, during their first night at see the sailors were only just now being reacquainted with the majesty of the sea.

As day followed day and night followed night the sight of the ever expansive dark black void which surrounded the ship would loose its majesty and their tastes might turn to drunken revelry. For now however the men turned their attention to the simple pleasure of sharing sea stories and songs of a nautical variety.

Most of the music to accompany said songs was provided by one sailor who all his fellow sailors called 'Shanty' for this particular reason. Just as Shanty was finishing up a haunting melody about a drowned sailor returning from the ocean's depths to claim the girl who had once pledged to marry him a new sound broke out.

It was a harmonica being blown from behind a nearby ship's mast. It was being played off tune, but not much more off tune than Shanty's own squeezebox.

"Do you mind if I join?" James Kantrar stepped into view of the flickering firebox and gave another quick blow on his harmonica.

Alexander and Cal both winced, they doubted this would end well. With Captain Stewart no longer present, and no work to be done the ship's crew and some of their passengers had started to bond just a little, they'd even been willing to stop grumbling about how it wasn't decent to have women above deck while the ship was at sea.

Alexander sat within ease reach of Florence, and Cal did likewise for Devi, both of the older male adventures making it very clear that unwanted advances upon their female partners would have most unpleasant consequences.

"Just so long as you don't insist on bringing your girlfriend along with you!" Chuckled a crewman named Pintsized, a halfling and only member of the crew even shorter than James.

Luckily for whatever his other social failings, James was already to roll along with a joke aimed right at him, and even play it step further than its original author had.

"She's not my girlfriend! I mean what would a creature of grace and beauty like her want to do with a shrimp like me? He exclaimed with ernestly as he gazed at the leopardess which was curled up in its cage, in sleep it no longer seemed to mind how small its confines were quite so much.

The sailors appreciating his skills at self deprecation waved the youngest adventurer over to join them.

James happily took a position to the left of Alexander and began to blow still more notes on his harmonica.

"So long as you guys are in a musical mood..." He offered, and promptly burst into song before any of his friends could stop him.

"The ship sailed into harbor, after fifteen months at sea!" After hearing the first verse they no longer worried much about stopping James and simply sat back and relaxed enjoying the song.

They weren't the only ones either, if nothing else the fact that the adventurers having traveled far and wide which meant they knew some playfully bawdy (and in this case keen enough that their bawdiness might not be obvious at first listen) that the sailor's had never heard before.

When James finished up the song he was even given a fairly enthusiastic round of applause and the young man basked in their approval.

"Since you liked that one so much let me play you another!" he declared enthusiastically, blowing up a quick tune on his harmonica that Shanty was gracious enough to follow along with on his squeeze box.

"He was Barovia born and bread, long in the arm and thick in the head..." He began before promptly being interrupted.

The looks of apprehension that had graced his friends faces at James' first appearance were easily surpassed by the ones of unfolding horror they now showed. Luckily Devi was fast on the draw, and her flail unfolded itself from about her arm and lashed out fast as a lizard's tongue.

It wrapped itself around James' right arm with which he was gesturing dramatically and pulled him across the gap between the two of them culminating with his head landing firmly in her lap.

"James, Cal and I were thinking about turning in for the night, do you think you could take first watch outside our room in case pirates attack?" Devi asked in a somewhat strained tone of voice.

As for her swain, Cal was directing a look at James that suggested he didn't see the fairness in the young man being punished with such close physical proximity to his beloved's body, but rather than voice those words instead he gave a dramatic yawn of his own.

"Yeah, it's that kind of night, want to turn in early if I'm gonna get ready to... apply my anti-barnacle mixtures to the hull... You have to give it two coats if you want it to really take." He concluded In a lie so blatant it was a wonder that he didn't get struck down by a bolt of lightning from the clear sky overhead or some other form of divine retribution.

It was equally wondrous that young Mr. Kantrar seemed to have trouble at all believing his companions claims.

"Sure thing Devi! You two can head down to the hold, make yourselves comfortable and I'll make sure that any pirates who try to raid this ship end up regretting it!" He vowed with what seemed to be his normal inexhaustible enthusiasm.

The others watched them go in silence and only once he was sure the three were all out of earshot (and then waited a little longer just in case) did Alexander finally voice his thoughts on the mater.

"Lad has a mind like a steel trap, if you don't put enough weight on it then it'll just sit there doing nothing all day." He noted with a slight smirk.

This well twisted turn of phrase won him a few chuckles from crew members present and Shanty went back to choosing musical selections.

(Scene Break)

Even later that night the rats came out.

Ship's rats to a one they had all been born and bread upon the Sunset Empires. They knew the vessel better than its captain, especially all manner of tiny hidey holes in its warped wooden hull to which they could retreat in case of danger.

So once most of the crew was fast asleep the rats would scurry from those hiding places to feed, either upon whatever stocks of food had not been properly secured or in a few memorable instances if they were desperate enough upon the crew itself. This night like every night the rats raised their noses and sniffed checking for any possible dangers.

Unlike most nights there was a new danger that they had not sensed before in the air, that of a great cat.

The rats didn't like that smell, not in the least, but they were still willing to risk a nightly excursion, they would just have to be extra careful. Unable to find any poisons or other dangers beyond the great cat they then turned their nostrils to the task of finding food. Soon all their senses became fixed upon the ship's hold.

Down there was something wonderful, it must have been a new crate of rations, for all the rats knew was that if they could find the source of that strange smell they would feast as they never had before and so they padded further and further away from the safety of their hole.

Floorboards creaked as the rats began to slowly and carefully pad down stairs meant for the legs of creatures much larger than they. Their beady eyes fixated upon the container as it called to them louder than ever, though for a moment they wavered. None of them knew why, but as much as they could think, they thought something was wrong.

Then they banished those worries and pressed forward, after all there was not a room on the ship that did not contain at least one possible safe haven for the rats, besides, they were nearly upon their goal now, just a little bit further. As they crowded around the container wondering how to get inside things took a sudden turn for the worse.

"I've come for much more than your tails my little blind mice." A voiced hissed down to them in a language they almost understood.

What they did understand though, what they could not fail to comprehend was that this voice spoke with malevolence that a daemon would have envied.

The great cat, the great cat was in the room!

All the rat's saw was a blur of gray fur and then it was among them.

With contemptuous ease each of its front paws descended like the hammers of some smith god. Two of the rats let loose with cries of boundless pain and fear as they were struck.

The other five all remained perfectly still, hoping that the great cat would begin to feast upon their unfortunate fellows and give them time to seek safety.

"This is the part where you run away..." The great cat whispered, and drove the point home by promptly claiming another victim.

The great cat unlike the rats had no desire to feast, it's appetite ran toward sport, blood sport. The four rats who could still move scattered in every direction possible. The great cat was all either blinding speed, or terrible stillness, and its paws reaped a horrific harvest.

So contemptuous of the rodents was the great cat that it had not yet unsheathed its claws, it seemed content to simply punish them with blows of its paws forceful enough to incapacitate instead.

Three more of the rats all fell before it's fury in a mater of seconds. The last one however felt relief start to flow through its veins as it's head cross the threshold of the rat hole it had sought safety in. Its body and rear legs soon followed which meant that all that was left... Then a monstrous paw came down upon the rat's tail which had been just inches from safety.

The rat sat there conflicting thoughts and desires waring in its tiny head. The great cat might have its tail, but that was all it had. Those paws might be mighty, but the rest of the rat was safe. In the end there was only one choice, the rat turned about slowly ready to start gnawing through its own tail.

Before its teeth could begin the grizzly business however the unfortunate rodent felt a strange tug upon its tail. It was not the crushing force of the great cat's paw directed downwards. It was a tug, a pull, a powerful one, and it was being directed down the length of the rats tail and into its body.

It barely had time to squeak in abject terror as it was drawn forth from the safety of its domain and left bare before the great cat who would not accept anything less than utter and complete success when it hunted.

"SIC SEMPER RATTUS!" The great cat bellowed its personal creed as loudly, informing ever other rodent on board the ship that a bloody pawed god of extermination has descended upon them and sooner or later they would one and all be added to its tally.

Then it suited deed to word and acted upon its newest victim.

FN: Well hopefully that should give you some idea of what the writing style of this story is going to be like and hopefully you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. If nothing else, I challenge you to find a story that makes mouse catching sound like something out of a slasher film right down to one poor fool thinking they're safe right before the monster hunting reveals it possesses at least one power that just can't be natural.

Don't worry exactly what is going on will become more and more clear as the story goes on. Also if you didn't know it already, the Great Cat is of course declaring "Thus Always to Rats" though of course Quidquid Latine Dictum Sit, altum Videtur, applies, or "Anything said in Latin seems profound".

As a side note concerning Florence, there is a rule in D&D about how Dryads need to remain within a couple hundred feet of a tree that is sacred to them or else they sicken and die. This rule can quite frankly go die in a fire. I'm not opposed to the principle of our heroes having weaknesses be they physical or mental (Florence will be more vulnerable to fire than any human, and her wounds heal more slowly) but they should be interesting weaknesses that facilitate telling interesting stories. Also I will be using D&D rules as inspiration and a baseline and I'll cop to it when I'm changing how they work here in the author comments but yeah, a system meant for people play an RPG in is not a perfect system to use to tell stories, who would have guessed?

Another side note, the first song James sings is "The Captain's Wife Lament by Paul and Storm its a nautical themed ditty which is exactly as "clean" or as "bawdy" as the singer/audience wants it to be.

The second however is a slightly modified (made the main character's hometown a location in Ravenloft) version of Monahan the Mutineer by either Ceann or The Town Pants, I can't tell which group played it first so I'll just mention both of them. It's the story of a guy who gets drunk, is forced onto a ship, gets whipped by the Captain and decides to lead a mutiny, which succeeds and then the ship is sunk by a storm.

In theory someone could swing that as a grisly tail of how mutiny never works out for the mutineers if they try hard enough, except that the song evidently sort of expects you to because it includes the lyrics

"And as we went into the sea  
>Monahan screamed this advice to me<br>"If we must die while we are young,  
>It's better to drown than to be hung!"<p>

So yeah, not at all the kind of song Captain Stewart or his first mate would look kindly upon being sung on his ship, especially by passengers.

Oh also in case anyone decides to get upset over the fact that Cal has a gun as his weapon of choice, that is entirely in keeping with the setting of Ravenloft, where several realms manufacture firearms. His is going to be a custom job of course, but are you really surprised that a fantasy hero has weapon which is unique to them?

So yeah I think that covers everything I want to address when it comes to this particular chapter, let me know what you thought of it okay?


	2. Chapter 2

Book one: I hunt, therefore I am!

Chapter two: You might think I'm crazy, but I don't even care!

"We need to have a talk about your young Mr. Kantrar..." Captain Stewart demanded as he approached Alexander who was standing out in the noonday sun surveying the seemingly endless horizon of sea, sea, and more sea.

"Has he actually found a way to get himself into more trouble since last night? After his little incident with ill chosen musical selection I told him that he should stick to the hold. Has he disobeyed my orders?" Alexander replied.

Stewart found it hard not to approve of the silver haired man's tone when it came to that last comment, it certainly sounded like Alexander would be ready whip the insolent grin right of that redhead's face if he had gone against his direct orders.

The problem was that he hadn't, just like last night's dinner James Kantrar hadn't even bothered to come above deck for breakfast.

"No, he's kept to himself all right it's just... Well you may know how sailor's tend to be, a more superstitious gathering of fools you couldn't find. They say that he's preforming some sort of dark ritual in that section of the hold where I had you store your belongings. The men have complained about what they can hear coming from behind the door, high pitched, pained sounds." Captain Stewart explained.

Alexander seemed to promptly return to his never ending quest to discover exactly how much smarmy smugness one could possibly squeeze onto the human face.

"I don't know what I can tell you or your men captain. I'm aware that sailors tend to be not the most learned of men, but I'd hope if they took their shoes off they'd be able to count to twenty. There are twenty members of your crew after all, and in turn four of us besides James. All four of us are standing on various parts of the deck as you might notice.

As for your crew members, are any of them missing? If not, then what do you suspect James is doing? Do you think that we somehow smuggled on board some chaste maidens just so that one of my companions could have the pleasure of torturing them to death aboard this vessel?" Alexander put it rather bluntly to say the least.

"Not as such..." Captain Stewart admitted. Doubtlessly they might have smuggled some unconscious maidens on board the ship in that blasted coffin, but such a plot felt needlessly convoluted and unlikely even to the a mind as suspicious as that of Captain Eli Stewart.

"Let me say it plainly, I understand that I and my companions make for unconventional passengers, but we're certainly paying you enough for a little leeway. I did not intend to mention this since it is in no conceivable way your business, but at least it might help put matters in context.

That fallen companion we are bringing with us, a closer friend James Kantrar never had. I've seen too many men broken by the deaths of those they cared for to intrude upon his grieving. Now of course I would not dream to bar you from visiting any part of your own ship.

You and your men are of course completely free to investigate the section of the hull you gave to us to our to our mystical trinket and coffin any time you wish Captain." Alexander delivered that last word with all the deftness of a assassin sliding home a knife in a man's gut, and not much less in the way of malice.

He was a canny bastard Captain Stewart reflected. Stewart certainly wasn't going to actually order his own men to step into that section of the hold, in fact he was starting to think that it might be for the best if he had it boarded up after this trip was over and done with.

(Scene Break)

"So, do any of you like Hugonon Lewis and the Diviners? James casually asked the other occupants of the room, figuring that they didn't have anything better to do than make a little chit chat at the moment.

"Oh where are my manners, you probably haven't even heard of him, since he's part of a group of bards from Kartakass and somehow I doubt any of you have been there recently. They started out a little too wishy washy for my tastes honestly, but this year, I feel they've really started to hit the sweet spot not matter how you slice it.

Anyway, I think their undisputed masterpiece is 'Rich to be Poor' a song so catchy, most people probably don't listen to the lyrics. But they should! Because it's a song that perfectly encapsulates the easy come easy go nature of money for adventures like myself! You'll get paid a king's ransom for rescuing his daughter one day, and blow it all on some brand new magical garter-belt that repels dire snails or whatever the next!"

James' 'guests' still seemed more interested in pointless endeavors like trying to escape than making proper use of whatever time they had left. It was depressing the way that some people just didn't know how to prioritize!

He played a few quick notes on his harmonica and then an entire stanza to see if that improved their dispositions any.

"There you go, though of course they play it a lot better than I can, but we had to travel light and I couldn't bring any of my magical recordings with me.

Anyway right now, just looking at your eyes I bet I know what you're thinking. You're wondering, why there all these sheets of parchment scattered about the place? Well I grew up in a library and a little mess helps me feel a bit more at home. Oh and you might be wondering why I'm wearing so much red, well I'm not as good at adventuring as Alex and the others are and I don't want something as simple as a bloodstain to ruin a perfectly good outfit. That and I think the color suits me, don't you?" James informed them

One of his 'guests' let loose with a wordless cry of fright and and despair.

James got up off of the coffin he'd been using as a bed, walked over and pressed a single finger to the captive's mouth.

"You know what? Be quite, kitty is talking. If you don't have something useful to say then don't say anything." He instructed his prey.

"Also you can quit fidgeting and flopping about like that. It's most unbecoming and all together pointless... I broke you backs when I captured you. A spine a terrible thing to have splintered, it won't kill you, but barring some serious healing magic you'll never walk again.

Having given his instructions, James returned to laying placidly upon the coffin.

"By the way, since I'm being honest with you about your crippling injury let me be frank about a few other matters. My name isn't James Kantrar, it's James Firecat at least that is the name I feel suits me best. Bet you never would have guessed that would you? I'm pretty good at passing for a normal person most of the time, though some things I've never been able to fix..." As he spoke James lifted his hat up and revealed his ears.

Instead of growing from the side of his head as normal in humans they jutted from the top, a pair of red furred twitching feline cat ears sitting atop an otherwise human head.

"Still, I've heard that a lot of lycanthropes have it worse. Ones who can't control when they shift, ones who loose command of their own bodies, who have no memory of what they do. I on the other hand, I am always me, my nature is my own and set in stone no mater how fluid my form." The captives looked at him with wide horrified eyes and James simply laughed.

"Don't waste your time. Looks alone won't save you. Neither of us are quite that lucky. I've heard that in other places, lands beyond the mists there are werecreatures are even luckier than I am. That they can eat like normal human beings.

Me? I was finicky eater from the start, and it got a lot worse when I was in my teens. All of a sudden, fruits and grains which had never really agreed with me to begin with, they just stopped doing anything at all for me. I could eat them, digest them, pass them along so to speak, but... they didn't help, they left me as empty as if I'd been eating grass. Not even cooked meat appeased my hunger, no I needed it fresh and raw.

Granted I don't need a tremendous amount of it, that was why I was, why I am so good at hiding my true nature from others. A little fresh meat here, a little fresh meat there, preferably from something killed by my own claws, it's not that hard to come by. Hell I don't need to tell you that do I? None of you would be here if I could eat like a normal person." James confided half mournfully half playfully.

"So I want you to understand, I'm not the monster you probably think I am right now. I'm just being true to my nature, I need meat to survive, not cooked, not spiced, not salted, only the freshest of the fresh will really do. I've learned a trick or two about it though, I need my meat to be freshly killed, but not necessarily freshly caught! I was so proud of myself when I realized that difference, if I'm careful I can still 'store' my food, at least in my own special way.

If things proceed for us without some drastic turn of events, I'll be taking each of you down, and feasting upon you one by one as the need strikes me. That lets me turn one nights hunt into several days worth food, quite an accomplishment isn't it?" James' question fell upon deaf ears however, his prospective meals remained remarkably unimpressed with his accomplishments.

"Look, sometimes life comes down to nothing more than raw brutal contest of survival between predator and prey. I don't like it, I'd happily change it if I could, but I can't. Right now from where I am sitting it is very clear who is the predator in the room. " James rose to feet once again and approached his row of captives.

"Let the defendants know that by the laws of the jungle, they stand accused of the crime of being delicious while I am hungry. How do you plead?" James demanded imperiously.

"SQUEEK!"

The now quadriplegic rat cried out in pain as it wiggled about in midair. The creature was hung upside down by its own tail and clearly not enjoying the experience.

James pressed a gloved hands to its neck and forced it too look up directly into his eyes.

"If you insist on continuing to make mindless outburst like that and I'm afraid I'll have to find you in contempt of court. If you still haven't realized it yet, I don't eat people, I don't even kill people, well not unless they're trying to kill me first, and I know rats can be people at times. I've heard that wererats are horrible creatures, they plague cities and spread evil wherever they go... but wererats are people.

Maybe you're not even wererats maybe you're some poor fool who has fallen afoul of a mage and been transformed into a rat but left with the ability to speak as a cruel mockery of your lost humanity?" He offered the rat wondering if this would coax more legitimate conversation from it..

"SQUEEEK!"

James's red gloved thumb came to rest on one side of the rat's neck, his index finger on the other.

"They say don't judge a book by its cover, though let me remind you all I grew up in a library. During that time I realized something... they put covers on books to inform you about what is supposed to be inside. So maybe I am over thinking this, maybe you just really are a dumb little keekee. What do you think of that possibility?" He pondered.

"SQUEEEAK!"

CRUNCH.

It only took a simple twist of James' wrist and the rat fell silent for good. Turning his attention to the other six rats who still remained alive James nonchalantly shrugged.

"You can't say I didn't give him a fair hearing. Who knows maybe you are all people who have been transformed and still are as intelligent as I am, but you just can't speak. The problem is that once you start buying into that possibility you wind up unable to eat anything for fear it might be something else! Who knows maybe that blade of grass you're about to step on was a person under an evil spell? I do my best to be fair and let the Mists make of it what they will." James calmly ruminated as he returned to the coffin with meal in hand.

He swung the dead rat back and forth by its tail a few times watching its movements carefully even though it was no longer capable of independent motion of any sort.

"They say that it is in the nature of the werebeasts to desire human flesh above all other. I'm not sure I believe it personally. It's just that humans are everywhere and there's so much meat on them. I'm sure that makes them easy prey for some." He ruminated.

"But you see... there really is just SO MUCH of them! I'm a werehousecat not a weretiger, I want to eat a pound of fresh meat every day, no, not even a full pound!

To someone with my nature, my desires, hunting humans makes about as much sense as a human jumping on the back of a whale with a knife and fork!

So killing a different human every few nights just so that I can nibble away at a body which is going to begin rotting soon enough? Please, I'd have to be crazy to do that. Do I look crazy to any of you?" He asked the dead rat.

The rodent for its part was understandably quiet.

"SQUEEK!"

Granted its remaining companions were under no compulsion to let him feast in silence.

"I'm going to choose to take that as a vote of confidence." James told and then began to lower his latest meal into his waiting maw while it was still warm.

FN: So yeah that happened. My goal in this chapter was to create the written equivalent of hearing the Silent Hill Air Raid Sirens playing Turkey In the Straw (its the tune ice cream trucks play). Something wrong was going on, but it just couldn't be what it looked like... could it?

If this was a more serious story I'd have done a lot more to delay the reveal of James' nature (maybe reveal he was a werecreature this early but certainly not that he's a werehousecat) so early on. That said, I also knew that I'd never get another chance to do a scene quite like this and have the reader go into it properly "blind" to James' true nature.

James' eating habits are a perfect example of how I don't mind my characters having weaknesses/restrictions placed upon them so long are they are interesting/open up story ideas. In this case, what James says about his diet is a pretty damn accurate representation of the nature of True (as in he was born with it rather than was cursed or bitten by another werecreature) Lycanthropes as revealed in Van Richten's Guide to Werebeasts the definitive work for werecreatures in the setting of Ravenloft, or at least quite close to it.

James has to eat raw fresh meat (as a housecat is not a scavenger but a hunter), but on the other hand he also only needs to eat the same amount of it that the animal he can transform into would desire. He also possibly has to only eat one half of that given that non-evil werebear (the only kind of possibly non-evil werecreature he talks about but I'd assume the same situation would apply to any kind of non-evil werecreature).

With the above said, I will admit that book doesn't talk at all about something as on the face of it as ridiculous as werehousecats but it does mention that Van Richten personally believes that werecats exists and since he mentions weretigers flat out I can only assume he does mean werehousecats are a cannon (if not common) occurrence in Ravenloft. Also it's cannon that you are allowed to have "good" werecreatures in Ravenloft so long as they make sure not to eat sentient creatures for food, which as you can see James doubtlessly making a good faith effort and then some to avoid.

Which brings us to our next point, the size differential, James' feline form is that of the Ravenloft equivalent of a Maine Coon Cat, which is the biggest breed of housecat out there. Here's some pictures for reference.

/2014/02/32 ... up-in-bed/

. ...

And just to really drive the point home...

VOL23/187 ...

Maine Coons, because I wanted to have the "dire" and "domesticated" template on the same animal.

I think we can all agree that a cat that big qualifies for the "small" rather than "tiny" size so one of them can serve as James' animal aspect. It also helps that Maine Coon's are known are terrific mousers, so that makes perfect sense also!

Also forgive me if these notes are sometimes just reiterating information you already know, but I write them for other places I post the story were common knowledge of Ravenloft is not a given.


	3. Chapter 3

Monster Party Book one: I hunt, therefore I am!

Chapter three: They might have split up, or they might have capsized, they may have broke deep and took water...

The dawn of the fourth day broke over a changing sea. The water was murkier and sloshed about in whitecaps that could almost reach the ship's deck.

The Sunset Empires was rocked back and forth by the pitching waves while across the horizon dark clouds gathered like a line of soldiers. Within those clouds lightning flashed erratically making it clear that the ship was only seconds away form being struck by a major storm.

"I don't suppose there's much we can do to help?" Alexander offered as he watched Captain Stewart rushing around and bellowing all manner of nautical instructions to his sailors.

Stewart stopped for a moment and fixed the silver haired man with a long stare.

"I don't suppose that spirit of nature you're be-spotted with knows how to calm the winds and waves?" He shot back.

Alexander shook his head.

"I'm far from 'be-spotted' with Florence, it's more of a minor infatuation mixed with respect for her capabilities. Sadly, said abilities tend to be limited to plants and trees of one nature or another. I'll have her do what she can to strengthen the hull of your vessel but that's the limit of what she can do at the moment." He admitted.

"Figures, all right men, shift those sails, shift em I say! We're going to run before the storm!" A moment after Captain Stewart finished speaking a mighty gust of wind ripped across the ship. It was nearly powerful enough to knock over an experienced sea dog like Captain Stewart and Alexander Diamondclaw probably only remained standing since he had the weight of his tremendous blade to help keep him grounded.

The cage holding the leopard wasn't so lucky.

Though indeed the bars were made out of quite stout metal, when it came to the moorings keeping the cage secured to the ship's deck... there he'd skimped just a little.

They broke beneath the fury of the storm, and the cage began to skitter wildly around the ship's deck, the leopard hissing, screaming and otherwise making a nuisance of itself in every way imaginable.

"That on the other hand, we just might be able to help you with!" Alexander noted, seeming actually pleased about having problems of the flesh and blood variety once again.

"You do that." Captain Stewart nodded before returning his attention to crew.

"Devi..." Alexander shouted to the elf before spinning a black gloved hand in a circle.

The elf nodded and her flail unspooled with shocking speed. With one quick flick of her wrist she managed to tangle it about the bars of the leopard's cage and momentarily hold the beast's container in place.

"I hope everyone knows that this kitty is just a touch heavier than James..." Devi reminded them as her face became creased with the effort of keeping the creature and its cage somewhat in check.

Cal quickly raced over to the cage as well, rapidly sorting through the countless small potions he wore attached to his belt.

"Lamp oil, nope. Flying? That'd just make this worse. Invisibility? Ditto. Gaseous form? Why do I even have that? Sanctuary, its a good thing you came as part of a package deal since I'm not really sure that you can really bottle holiness..." He muttered to himself absentmindedly.

"ANY TIME NOW!" Devi reminded him her face starting to turn red from exhaustion.

"Just need a moment to find the right... wait a moment, tanglefoot? Perfect!" Cal noted with delight as he ripped the potion from his belt.

He yanked the top off then hurled it at the cage. It slammed against the bars, breaking open, and coating it with a thick green ooze.

The leopard hissed at him in irritation and tried to scratch the alchemist but Cal pulled back away from the leopard and dusted his hands in a congratulatory manner.

"Well, I think that sorts out that problem. Now all we have to worry about is the storm." He congratulated himself.

A moment later the ship was rocked by a roar the louder than that of any cat.

Six gigantic tentacles rose up out of the water and easily crested above the side of the ship's deck and each of those tentacles was currently wrapped around a rotten skull.

"Me and my big mouth..." The alchemist reflected.

(Scene Break)

"CRACK CRACK CRACK!" The sounds followed right after one another at a breakneck speed as something ripped holes in the side of the Sunset Empires.

James who had been been laying down placidly moments before rose to his feet just in time to see a trio of long translucent tentacles start to ooze and slither their way into ship's hold.

He leaped off the coffin and landed on the floor before heaving a disgruntled look in the direction of the tentacles, headless of the grisly trophies each one had curled within its grasp.

"You know, I think you just decided to invade the wrong boat!" James declared dramatically.

Sadly his comments fell upon deaf ears (or whatever it was that gigantic squid like creatures used for hearing organs) as the tendrils continued to rapidly probe the room while James danced around focusing on staying just out of their grasp... until one of them curled around the coffin.

This for James Firecat was the turning point.

His hands reached downwards and with almost magical speed they emerged from hidden pockets of his jacket each one clutching a glistening dagger.

"That's it, as far as I'm concerned, you're nothing but a very big sorta squishy fish... and if there's one thing I love to eat as much as rats, it's fish!" James informed the tentacles or more exactly the creature that they belonged to.

While he had been talking the other two appendages had joined their fellow in affixing around the coffin and seemed to content to try and drag it out through the hole they had ripped in the Sunset Empires.

James was not going to make it easy for them though, he dashed forward the daggers flashing about wildly.

SLASH SLASH SLASH SLASH!

No sounds of pain accompanied the wounds, but all the same thick foul smelling ichor began to flow from the wounds James inflicted.

The tentacle released the coffin but they did not retreat. Instead, they rose up into the air hovering ominously above James Firecat, clearly intent on not leaving without something to show for their hard work.

"Cats eat fish." James uttered the three words calmly and dispassionately working to steady his breathing.

The tendrils lashed out at him, he threw himself out of the way of two of them, but the third managed to warp itself around his ankle.

"Cats eat fish." James uttered the phrase again as he watched the two other tentacles starting to turn about clearly intending to further tighten their compatriot's grip on James' body.

The tentacles lashed forward.

A dagger flew from James' hand and buried itself in the one tentacle that had grabbed him. It recoiled backwards and its grip went slack freeing James.

The young werecat dropped to the ground, but landed with a near perfect tumble that saw him regaining his footing with a replacement dagger already in hand.

"Cats eat fish!" He called out to the monster yet again, this time sounding like a zealot bellowing his favorite passage in a heathen's face.

While the two tentacles were waving about trying to figure out exactly where their prey had gotten to James was only too happy to oblige them.

He rushed right past the waving tips of the tentacles and instead focused on the flesh much nearer the base of the appendage. There with twin flicks of the wrist her tossed his weapons into the soft squishy flesh and this time he could actually hear some kind of bizarre unpronounceable noise of pain bellowing up from below the water.

The three tentacles beat a hasty retreat leaving James Firecat alone and triumphant in only slightly breached section of the ship's hold.

"Good, and don't come back!" James shouted after the retreating limbs before taking a moment to place his hands triumphantly upon his waist and gaze out through the holes the kraken's arrival had visited upon the Sunset Empires. He did not like what he saw.

(Scene Break)

While James fought a pitched battle down below, an even more frantic one was going on up above. Already poor unfortunate Shanty had been grabbed by one of the tentacles and then had his head twisted clean off by it.

The skull previously claimed by that tentacle had been discarded and replaced with the sailor's head as some sort of macabre trophy.

But the creature was not having things entirely it's own way, while it might not be much good at dispelling waves, sure enough Alexander's blade was quite well suited to the prospect of driving off the local wildlife.

Two tendrils which went for his head had been promptly driven off with vicious gashes to show for their troubles.

Despite some worries about the unfriendly weather Cal's firearm seemed to be functioning just fine, though sadly as it had been designed to dispatch human sized foes the gun was failing to wreak truly momentous damage upon the gigantic aquatic creature.

Devil was not even bothering to try and use her flail, instead she'd busied herself trying to get the ship's boat ready to cast off just in case.

At least, that was what she was trying to do until a gigantic wave rocked the ship and carried the smaller vessel off with it. She watched it go, and remarked upon this turn of events with a few choice words.

Then she turned around and glowered at the glowing tentacles that were still lashing away at the ship itself.

"Well then, several orders of cooked calamari coming right up." Devi announced before clenching her right fist and then throwing a mock punch.

A bolt of lightning left her hands and lanced into one of the waving tentacle.

"You said you didn't have any spell casters!" Captain Stewart bellowed angrily at Alexander, sounding more upset at the prospect of being lied to than possibly still more of his crew slain.

"Devi can't cast spells!" Alexander shouted back struggling to make sure his voice heard above the roar of the wind.

"SHE JUST HAS AN IMPRESSIVE COLLECTION OF MAGICAL ARTIFACTS!" He replied.

As if thoroughly unable to accept the damage its appendages were suffering the creature itself now rose out of the water.

"Florence, this thing is a little big for me to take down with just a sword... a little help?" Alexander requested.

Florence was currently standing next to the ship's main mast, and she took a very deep breath.

"I hope you can forgive me for this... though I suppose the fact that you're already dead mitigates it a little." Then she delivered a bear handed chop to the mast.

Despite the disparity between the size of her hand and the thickness of the mast cracked, warped, and twisted, and gave way with shocking speed. It plummeted downward, and promptly impaled the monster driving it back below the surface of the water.

"What are you doing to my ship?" Captain Stewart demanded.

"Saving it..." Alexander answered without a moment of hesitation.

No sooner were the words out of his mouth however than all of a sudden the ship was rocked yet again.

"Captain there are rocks ahead!" Shouted down a sailor named Agar from a backup crows nest that hadn't been attached to the main mast.

"HOW CLOSE?" Captain Stewart barked back.

Whatever Agar was about to say, it got lost in the roll of thunder. It wasn't necessary though, Alexander could see the answer right in front of him.

"Too close.." He had time to answer before the ship smashed into them.

It began to tilt ominously and a mighty wave swept over it washing sailors and passengers alike into the rolling waves.

(Scene Break)

Like many werecreatures James Firecat had excellent night vision and a keener eye for detail than most ordinary humans.

What he saw caused him to realize that there were things a gigantic squid creature might fear more than well armed werecats.

There was a series of jagged rocks out there, and the storm was pushing the ship straight for them with all possible haste.

"Oh hairballs." James muttered to himself before deciding that there was only one thing he could do to try and improve his situation.

He bounced over to the same ornate coffin he had helped bring aboard the ship and rarely left the side of since.

He threw himself flat atop it, grateful for the handholds originally meant to help open or close the lid as now they gave him something firm to keep hold of.

Then the inevitable happened. The Sunset Empires slammed into the rocks and the holes that this impact made in its hull made those the kraken's three tendrils had wrought seem like nothing more than termite bites.

The ship began to tilt precariously and as the next wave struck the ship it flowed in through the newly made gaps. When it ebbed outwards it brought with it a quite drenched werecat hoping that even packed with dirt, its occupant, and now his own weight added along for the ride, the wooden coffin would still float...

(Scene Break)

The place looked almost like a stereotypical beach, bright sun, lots of sand, palm trees, waves gently lapping here and there.

The idyllic image was somewhat offset however by a few things though; like the gigantic rock figures who seemed to resemble human beings half buried in the sand reaching out desperately for salvation. the copious amounts of wreckage strewn across the beach, and among that wreckage lay a handful of bedraggled adventurers.

Alexander Diamondclaw every single inch of his hair soaked clean through lay flat on his side, breath coming in awkward half wheezes as his body sucked in air and spit out a few drops of whatever every chance it could get.

Florence was nearby she seemed slightly better off, but the Dryad was either suffering from a severe case of over-watering or had simply been quite heavily buffeted by the rocks upon which the ship had wrecked itself. Whatever the case, she seemed no more conscious than Alexander, simply staring out at the world in unblinking uncomprehending eyes for the moment.

Cal Wright and Devi Skye each lay about ten feet from one another, both decidedly unconscious, and by some bizarre quirk of fate Cal had managed not to loose his glasses in the twisting seas.

Then there was James Firecat, his grip on his friend's coffin had remained strong and true even when the waves had temporarily capsized it and forced him underwater. Now as he lay out in the sunlight his body unconsciously twitched spasmodically, trying to shake off the water that clung to every inch him and every fiber of his clothing.

All five of them did not seem seriously harmed, but all the same they also looked as though they might be unconscious for a few hours before they full recovered from the ordeal.

Then the coffin began to shake.

Its lid began to slowly to lift, and as it swung fully open it left James half stuck between the lid and sandy beach, though in no great peril all the same.

A woman emerged from the coffin and unlike the water logged bedraggled half drown other occupants of the beach she seemed perfectly coiffed and immaculate dressed.

Despite the layers of soil which filled the coffin, the dirt had in a surprising show of chivalry for an inanimate compound had decided not to pollute her person with so much as a single speck of grime. Her outfit consisted of a wide brimmed gray hat, an a white coat cut along masculine lines complete with even more masculine seeming black pants.

Despite her choice of dress there was no denying the woman's femininity or the length of her glossy black hair worn down past her shoulders and split down the middle by a single streak of pure white. Her skin was a unnaturally pale color, her eyes a vivid ruby read, and when she yawned mightily it was possible to see the sharpness of the incisors that dwelt within her mouth.

"It's good to be back on dry land again..." Reflected Miriam "Mirri" Countess of Kantrar "Catwarrior" drinker of blood, queen of unlife, mistress of shadows, caller of beasts, she who did not fear the sun or shy from the closed door and suck buddy of James Firecat.

Mirri got out of her coffin, closed the lid and looked at the sight of her companions strewn hap haphazardly about the beach, her eyes flickering back and forth, her ears listening for the sounds of their beating hearts.

Then suddenly the sun was blocked out by a shadow that even Mirri found no comfort in. "Oh no..." She whispered before the wave crashed ashore.

Mirri and the others vanished for a few seconds as the wave dragged them one and all a little bit closer to the beach's edge.

As the water retreated there was a black and white blur of motion as Mirri raced for the treeline looking decidedly less composed than she had a few moments ago.

"F**KING WATER! I HATE F**KING WATER" Mirri spat the invectives as enthusiastically as she did liquid from her much atrophied lungs.

When she finally reached the safety of the trees she took a few moments to catch her unneeded breath and began to pat herself down as if wanting to make sure that the wave hadn't carried any of her out to sea with it.

"Some days it just doesn't pay to get out of the casket..." Mirri growled to herself as she leaned against a tree.

This, this was much better than being out on the beach, she had some shade, and she'd like to see one of those stupid waves get her now! Still as she looked out where the other five were stuck, and still unaware of the possibility that they might fall victim to yet more waves and buried her face in a still wet white glove.

"Sweet Kali this is going to suck, and not in the good way" Mirri muttered to herself and then against her every instinct she raced back out onto the beach.

Trip one, her coffin and James, one way or another both of those would help her survive out here, wherever 'here' turned out to be.

Second trip, Alexander and Florence, she was only doing it because Florence had done those rituals which had made her "wood" coffin hard enough that you could break your average sword trying to hack it apart, but might just as easily cause it to crack and warp into stakes if she was upset with its owner.

Still no sign of another wave coming, trip three, grab Cal and Devi, Cal had used those weird potions that made her coffin more water tight than most of the ships which ended up transporting it, wouldn't do to have him try out some of his favorite acids on it instead. Besides, she wasn't that picky at the end of the night she could always nibble on one of them instead if she really needed to.

With that journey completed the beach was empty of living flesh and she had all secured all obvious sources of demi-human blood nearby, now she just had to worry about dealing with any occupants of the island who might try and give them a less than warm welcome.

Not that there was anybody observing her right now, Mirri had a very finally tuned ear, she knew what a human (or elf) heart beat sounded like and there were only four of those (she wasn't quite sure how that sort of thing worked for Florence, maybe it was sap that just sort of oozed on its own accord instead) anywhere nearby.

This place might be a bit freaky looking and the waves were way too big, but right now the six of them were the only humanoid beings anywhere nearby and that meant they'd probably running this island within a week.

Mirri had never been so right, and so wrong at the same time.

FN: So yeah the vampire is out of the coffin to put a Ravenloft twist on an old expression, now lets talk about the werewolf in the room.

To start with apologies to any people of any faith I offended with Mirri's comments on matters divine. I am simply being true to the Ravenloft setting as written where Kali is a chaotic evil deity whose domains are death, destruction, trickery... and healing. (Once again don't ask me I didn't write it.) In my personal opinion D&D should have stuck to importing deities from religions that next to nobody takes all that seriously anymore (Egyptian and Norse pantheon are certainly less frequently worshiped today than... whatever the correct terminology is for what Kali is considered in Hinduism) but Kali seemed the most fitting chaotic evil god for Mirri to reference given that she's not a werewolf.

Anyway, with the theological matters hopefully dealt with, also forgive the extended build up for what you had probably all guessed was coming (ghee a large ornate coffin being carried on a ship in a setting which is supposed to just ooze Gothic Horror... do you think there might be a vampire in it?) when it came to Mirri finally revealing herself.

I realize that I was also laying it on a little thick and then some with her introduction. Before you go around throwing terms like Mary Sue however, please keep in mind the Krusty Comedy Koan: a pie in the face is will be exactly as funny as how dignified the person getting hit with said pie was before hand (Fawlty Towers corollary, a pie to the crotch is always hilarious).

Mirri getting nailed by that wave and her subsequent freakout wouldn't have been half as funny to me (and hopefully to you as well) if I hadn't took some time to build a nice pedestal for her to get knocked off of.

Also if you couldn't guess, Mirri is not going to be challenging Jaden Sunstar for the title of nicest vampire in Ravenloft (good people tend not to swear by a chaotic evil deities after all) she's very much, evil by way of seeing herself as an apex predator and will feel no remorse about eating her fill or taking just about anything else she wants either by force or by trickery. Luckily, for the moment she's able to get her fill drinking from James whose lycanthropic abilities lets him regain hit points fast enough for the process to be fatal for him. Mirri is evil, but she is not stupid evil who puts doing evil above doing things that will insure her continued existence.

She's in these stories for two reasons:

1: She's an interesting study in what happens when a bad person falls in with the "right crowd". Mirri joined the group because do goodery adventurers doing good are the number two cause of unundeath for vampires (number one is other vampires due to how frequently masters will slay their spawn or bride and grooms fall out) so she decided to find an open minded group and join up. She gets to wrap herself up in a nice safe sheep fleece whenever the torches, pitchforks and wooden stakes start getting handed out, and to any vampire who thinks she'll be as easy prey as some other adventurer she'll give them a nasty surprise, so it's win win as far as she's concerned.

2: Despite the fact that its hard to think of two monsters that are more frequently associated with one another, I honestly can't think of any Ravenloft that involve vampires and lycanthropes of any type working together. Possibly it's because as soon as you include both you move away from proper Gothic horror and into Hollywood exaggerations of it (I'll admit the first two examples of both working together I can think of are Abbot And Costello meet Frankenstein and Van Helsing) but I'm surprised there hasn't been at least one adventure based around that particular monster mash. (If there has been and I missed it please let me know)

As a side note Mirri's freak out was also completely psychosomatic, given that it expressly says in Van Richten's guide to vampires (once again, if there is a more definitive source book on vampires in the Ravenloft setting I have yet to find it) that an ocean does not qualify as "fast flowing" for the purposes of having a vampire be destroyed by being submerged in fast flowing waters, the more you know!

Also before people get up in arms about Mirri having no reaction at all to sunlight, I'd like to point out a few things. In Van Richten's guide to Vampires it is put right down in black and white text (page 46) that not only are vampires who are old enough able to spend time in sunlight with no danger of being destroyed or loss of power, but that there exist rare vampires who exhibit the same ability from a much younger age.

Likewise on page 62 of the same book it says that there exist vampires who don't need to fall into a deep sleep as soon as the sun comes up, or risk destruction if they are not in a coffin by some appointed hour. He even explicitly says that there exists vampires with both of these abilities, they're just rare.

Mirri being the protagonist of a fantasy novel is going to be a rare example of her species the same way that Legolas being the protagonist of a fantasy novel is far more dangerous in a fight than your average elf.

I will however cop to the fact that as you might guess from Mirri's titles she is completely and utterly free of a Ravenloft/D&D vampire's normal inability to enter a standard domicile without an invitation, because as weaknesses go that is one which closes off more stories than it opens up.

If I was using it, it would exists solely to stop the entire story dead in its track until the rest of the group went in, convinced someone living there to come out with them, Mirri uses one of the many options in her swiss army knife of coercion, and they invited her in. Once again, I don't object to my characters having weaknesses, but they should be interesting weaknesses that the characters grapple with in interesting ways.

All that said, I am not writing Mirri a blank check for immunity to all vampire weaknesses within her setting, as we already saw, she and running water don't get along, she can can be instantly "slain" by a stake to the heart, holy symbols and devoutly sanctified locations will be an issue (she'll react to them the same way most vampires do to people's homes she can't come in without an invitation). Holy water she'll hate even more than regular running water. Mirrors will not show her reflection but she will not be repulsed by them, ditto unaffected by garlic (Mirri is going to be treated as a "Very Old" vampire so its in the Ravenloft books that she should be immune to those things).

Also somehow this escaped me at first (not sure why maybe because I just sort of glossed over it/don't recall it directly being mentioned in the Van Richten's Guide, or maybe it changes in between editions) but if vampires aren't supposed to cast shadows, Mirri still casts a one. She has blood red eyes and very pale skin, and if double checked in a mirror has no reflection if people look past their preconceptions that should be more than enough to tell them she is a vampire, it's no fun to have the game be given away by something as obvious as lacking a shadow.

To make up for the advantages above she'll also have two unique salient weaknesses /failures as a vampire, she has no innate ability to command undead (see that's a good weakness, it makes her much less effective than she might be otherwise and it lets me tell a lot more stories that wouldn't happen if every time zombies, skeletons, or similar mindless undead showed up Mirri just forced them to dance Thriller with her), and if reduced to zero hit points rather than turning to mist and retreating to her coffin her essence will start to unravel (think standard death's door or whatever it is called rules for a character between -1 and -9 hit points) at which point to survive she'll need either demi-human blood poured down her throat or an injection of negative energy (inflict /harm spells).

Hopefully you're still with me after all that and with the next chapter we'll start to have some real fun now that we've got all the characters set up!


	4. Chapter 4

Monster Party Book 1: I hunt therefore I am!

Chapter four: These castaways were stranded, on this island out at sea...

"So here we are, wherever the hell exactly 'here' is." Alexander reflected as he sat with his back to a palm tree watching the waves lap up and down the beach.

"Pretty much Sir." Mirri admitted.

Unsurprisingly the leader of the group had been the first to regain his wits and Alexander had been mentally taking stock of things as best he could since then.

"Okay, first of all, I'm aware that this situation is somewhat suboptimal to say the least. That said, I want you all to all remember that we've one and all been in worse situations than this. We haven't gotten in scrapes from Blautstein to Vechor to end up being done in by geography. We're going to survive this, we're going to get our asses off this island, and we're going to turn a profit when all is said done.

So lets count off what we need for survival. Step one, food. Devi how are we set for rations?" Alexander asked.

Devi promptly held up a small brown bag.

"Well we've had at least a little luck on the mater. In addition to our own supplies, Cal and I found a barrel of hardtack from the Sunset Empires that got washed up on shore. Our diets aren't going to be very exciting but there's enough food for us for the three of us to last a month or so. That's just what we have on us, not taking into account what we might be able to find around here that's edible. As for Mirri..." Devi got no further before vampire cut in.

"I'll last about as long as the four more conventionally alive of you do. After that, me and Florence are going to get a lot better acquainted and I'll find out if I can drink sap or not..." Mirri reflected.

"Lets try to have it not come to that." Florence answered in a remarkably calm tone of voice.

"Anyway, Florence just sort of drinks in sunlight most of the time and there's still a fair amount of that to be had. Which brings us to James." As Devi paused she shot a glance over at the young werecat also had his back to a palm tree, but unlike Alexander his eyes were wide open and vaguely unfocused as if he was unable to see anything.

"But the rats... why are the rats gone?" James whimpered.

Under Alexander's instructions about how there was not to be a rodent left alive on the ship by the time they made port James had kept right on hunting each night, and continued to expand his collection of four pawed prisoners.

He'd had quite a pack of them strung up by their tails by the time of the kraken's attack, and unlike more conventional rations there was no sign of James' stockpile of uniquely preserved foodstuffs.

"Yes James the rats are gone." Mirri half whispered as she ran a soothing hand through his bright red hair.

While others might have jerked away from the coldness of her hand James simply leaned into it and clearly seemed to be reassured by her touch.

"Okay, I get it. Rat is off the menu unless I can catch some more of it. No big deal, catching rats is what I do best! Hell it's not just what I do best, I am the best at rat catching! Okay there was that one weird swimming cat from Darkon who might be a little bit better than me, but he cheats, what the kind of a cat has poison fangs?

I'm sure I could have take him two out of three but he turned up his nose at the idea of a good honest rematch. Real snob, also claimed he was smarter than me, can you believe it?" He reflected, still sounding decidedly miffed about his defeat in that particular contest.

Mirri just smiled and began to shift her fingers back and forth eagerly scratching James' head and the ears beneath his hat.

"That's right. The two of us should head a little further inland, I'll get even further out of the sun, and you'll round yourself up some more rodents, and then everything will be right as rain." Mirri predicted confidently.

"As long as you're going to be investigating further inland, keep your eyes open for more water. Food is all well and good but it won't be doing us a lot of good unless we have fresh water also. If Devi has her bag then we've got our emergency canteens which will last us for a week, but that's it.

I've got a few ideas for how we can get some more of our own, but if there's an island stream of fresh water so much the better." Alexander suggested.

James threw off a quick salute in agreement.

"We'll take care of it Alex. If nothing else you can always count on me and Mirri to find running water, we'll just figure out which way we don't want to go and then meander that way all the same." The werecat predicted.

Alexander turned his single green eye upon this two more mundane followers now.

"As we move on from food and water, lets talk about weapons. Cal, how are you stocked for firepower at the moment?" Cal unstrapped his firearm and ran a tender hand along it's length.

"Well I've still got Phoenix here as you can see, but I lost my main stash of bullets when we went over the side. Devi do you have my backup?" The elf nodded and reached into the same small bag she had presented when it came to the subject of rations.

A moment late her hand came out of the bag, and by the work of some mystic enchantment she was holding a sack that was much larger than the bag that had held it only a moment ago. She tossed the sack nonchalantly to Cal who quickly pulled out a bullet and went about loading it into his weapon.

"That's all well and good then. I lost some of my choice potions also sadly, but I've got still enough second hand mumbo jumbo on me to give any restless natives a real bad day." The alchemist promised.

Alexander nodded in approval at his subordinates confidence.

"Good. For all I know when we got swept into the waves we ended up getting washed ashore on a completely different end of the island than the rest of the crew, assuming any of them made it. Either way, I'd appreciate it if you two could inspect the beach a bit more thoroughly and see if you can't find where they ended up or possibly whatever is left of the Sunset Empires.

The more tools we have to work with the more options we have, and even if it's a completely useless as a sailing vessel it's still a gigantic collection of wood. That covers the big three, onto more material maters, James do we still have the mystical bauble we were tasked with delivering?" Alexander demanded.

James nodded all too eagerly.

"You bet! I half buried in the dirt of Mirri's coffin once we got on board, just like you told me to. It's probably gonna need a good wash before we turn it over to its original owner but that's a lot better than it being lost at sea." He responded chipperly.

"Wonderful. Okay in that case you lot have your orders get to work. As for the two of us, we, by which I mean Florence, will see about making us some real shelter out of these palm trees." Alexander explained.

"Before we split up, want me to take care of your coffin?" Devi asked holding out her tiny bag towards Mirri.

"Considering it's either that or leave it laying around here at the mercy of the elements.. yes I think I would rather have you take care of it." Mirri admitted.

Then she casually walked over to the coffin that it had taken both James and Cal working together to tote, and lifted it up off the ground all by herself. She brought it over to Devi who opened up the small bag Cal' s backup supply of bullets had come from.

What followed was a sight to make one tilt their head and stare blankly in confusion as Mirri somehow stuffed a coffin that had to be at least seven feet long into a bag that was one tenth as large at most.

Whatever made it possible, in the end she did it successfully and eventually there was no sign of her favorite resting place.

"Make sure not to get yourselves killed while you're off exploring the island I'm going to want that coffin back tonight." Mirri insisted.

"I'll keep that fact in mind..." Devi deadpanned.

(Scene Break)

"Picking up any tasty scents?" Mirri inquired as the pair made their way through the jungle.

The normal half a foot or so of difference in their height had ballooned outwards considerably due to the fact that Mirri was walking upright while James was prowling on all fours.

"Not quite yet, we both know I'm a bit of a city kid, though I'm not completely out of my depth here. If anything I should be better off because they won't have rat holes to run to! I'm in my natural element right now, king of the jungle!" James predicted confidently.

Mirri's eyes settled upon one of the nearby trees, something that large certainly looked like it could have been fairly easily hollowed into a rat haven given enough time. She also didn't have the heart to remind James that felis domestica's "natural" environment was probably much closer to an arid desert than a lush jungle.

Given his otherwise encyclopedic knowledge on the history of man and cat (in the sense of only matters pertaining to both humans and housecats at the same time) she suspected he was knowingly lying to himself.

Instead, she casually clicked her tongue and listened for the sounds that came back. She didn't need to imitate a bat's sonar call, to hear threats approaching but it helped sometimes when she wanted to give her already extraordinary ears a bit of a boost.

She doubtlessly could use that advantage right now, she was picking up all sorts of strange sounds and had a hard time placing most of them. The only good news was that none of them sounded overtly hostile at the moment and she had yet to pick up a the heartbeat of any sentient creature she recognized.  
>"By the way Mirri your cat has gotten a lot better recently, I can barely hear your human accent anymore." James complimented her as he stalked through the jungle in his pure animal form.<p>

The vampire bent down to run a hand along the length of James' spine from neck to tail tip in appreciation of his complement.

"I had a very enthusiastic teacher." Mirri reminded him.

Thanks to her own shape-changing abilities Mirri had managed to pick up what passed for standard domestic cat fairly easily, not that she needed it really. James could understand her speaking common just as easily in cat form as he did in his human one, even if the transformation's changes to his vocal chords limited his own linguistic options.

Right in the middle of her second stroking of his fur James' ears suddenly pressed back against his head and Mirri pulled away. Werecat body language was almost point for point exactly the same as that of a normal housecat, especially when it came to instinctual activities like hunting.

James had clearly caught the scent of something.

"Go get em kitten." She encouraged him and sure enough James took off racing through the jungle.

(Scene Break)

James Firecat burst through the brush and landed a damn near perfect pounce upon the rat he was hunting. No fancy backbreaking maneuvers of polite chit chat this time around, the werecat hadn't eaten for what he suspected might be over twenty four hours (he had no way of telling just how long he'd lain unconscious on the beach) and was feeling understandably peckish. No, he was going to get this over with as quickly as possible.

"Speak words or perish." He hissed down his prey.

Upon closer inspection this thing had to be the ugliest rat he'd ever seen, and rat's weren't a species exactly known for being all that pretty first place. The thing looked like it might have been either diseased or badly born, it's eyes seemed to big for its head, it's paws too unprotected from the elements and without even tiny claws.

The rat's back wasn't right either, he wasn't sure why exactly but it was doubtlessly something different in the nature of the creature's spine than those he had hunted on board the Sunset Empires.

"Mercy! Please, mercy!" The creature squeaked in horror.

James' brown eyes (one of the few parts of him that did not change whatever shape he took) opened wide with shock. He'd always made sure to offer to let his prey go if it proved it was intelligent, but he couldn't remember the last time one of them had actually taken him up on it!

"You can speak?" The werecat spluttered his own voice becoming a bit of a high pitched squeak itself in the process from sheer startlement.

"I speak the words great hunter, please show me mercy, I am loyal to our land's rightful king!" The mouse wailed pitifully.

James slowly raised a paw off of the rat's body.

"Are all the rats on the island like you?" He asked dreading that he already knew the answer to that one.

"We are all loyal great one! Glory to the Diosamblet that he may spare his pitiful subject from your fangs." It babbled.

James raised his other paw now and then bent down slightly to nose frightened rodent away from him.

"Well then, go run back to your den or whatever. I don't eat smart rats." James said the words as much to remind himself as to inform his prey.

The rat spun about and began to break into the closest approximation of a bow that it could manage.

"We shall be smart, we shall be loyal, we shall be worthy!" The creature promised him before running off.

James watched it go planting his head mournfully on the dirt. Yes, there was something undeniably 'off' about that rat, but that hardly mattered given that plenty of people had said there was something 'off' about him at one time or another.

That didn't mean it wasn't intelligent, especially given that it was able to hold a cross species conversation. Hell, it sounded like the rat spoke common a lot better than James could at the moment!

So, here he was then, trapped on an island where all the rats might be too intelligent to eat...

"What's the matter, did it get away?" Mirri asked as she came upon the scene of James "successful" hunt.

The werecat hung his head, not yet willing to voice the truth of his dark suspicions.

"Yeah that one did. Guess I'm a bit more rusty than I thought. Oh well, there will be always be the next one..." James couldn't do much more than devoutly hope that the next rat he caught a whiff of would be a lot stupider.

(Scene Break)

"Well there it is, wasn't much to look at to start with, even less impressive now." Cal reflected as he and Devi caught site of what was left of the Sunset Empires.

The ship's final fate had been to be all but impaled upon a section of rocks within spitting distance of the shore, each and every one of its masts toppled and otherwise wrecked to the point that it seemed the only thing keeping it together at this point was the rocks which had done so much damage in the first place.

"Guess we're definitely not sailing away from here any time soon." Devi admitted as she sized up the ship wondering just how much of, well anything would be left for them.

It was clear that the ship itself was a lost cause at this point even with Florence's skill at working wood. None the less, it was impossible to tell how much in the way of materials or rations might still remain intact on board. "

Heh, we've only just started on this adventure and sure enough..." Devi reflected as she reached into her back of holding. From it she produced several long coils of rope and started to twirl one of them about her head.

With skill perfected by her use of the flail she managed to send a rope flying so that looped perfectly around one of the broken masts. Then she offered the rope to her companion.

"Beauty before age." The elf quipped.

Cal glared at the rope for a moment and then the one who had given it to him.

"You're just trying to butter me up so I don't complain about loosing the chances I'd get to look up your dress if I climbed second." Cal pointed out.

Devi reached forward with a gloved hand and ruffled the alchemist's dirty blond hair.

"Would you look at that, brains and beauty in one package, I sure know how to pick them don't I? Now only I could get some chivalry added to the package as well..." She noted herself contently.

Cal realizing that he had no chance to win the "argument" (such as it was) took the rope firmly in his hands and headed out towards the Sunset Empires.

He only needed to get his boots and leggings wet before he came into contact with the ship's broken hull. He was about a quarter of the way up when Devi began to ascend the rope as well, and she had managed to nearly close the gasp between them before he pulled himself onto the deck of the Sunset Empires.

Once both were on board they began to carefully search the ship's deck, moving slowly so that the tilted terrain did not send them tumbling. For the moment there was no sign of anything worthwhile or of the crew.

"Lets go below and check the private storage room where they kept the food." Cal suggested, as he half leaned, half stepped through the necessary doorway.

What he found on the other side was not promising. Like the rest of the ship, rocks had gouged holes in this room and it was clear that a great deal provisions had either been washed away or near hopelessly polluted by salt water.

One barrel in particular looked promising soon drew both adventurer's attention, while it was somewhat worn it also lacked any sort of obvious holes or gaps.

Cal carefully began to unscrew the lid and gazed down in delight at what was inside. "Jackpot. Looks like my luck is finally turning around." He said with a smile.

CRACK CRACK CRACK!

Sure enough Cal's words seemed to have an almost mystical ability to summon forth trouble. This time that trouble took the form of Captain Eli Stewart, his first mate Monterey and Old Singe the ship's cook... or at least their heads.

The trio of decapitated heads were each grasped in a separate translucent tentacle that forced their way up into the room from below.

"Well guess we've overstayed our welcome lets be going..." Cal reflected as he tugged at the barrel for all he as worth not willing to abandon his newly gained treasure.

Devi grabbed a hold as well and together they managed to drag it out onto the deck. As the pair looked around at the still wreckage strewn ship's deck they realized it had been tricky enough to cross while unencumbered, there was no way they'd be able to move across it now with any reasonable speed.

That didn't even take into account the issue how they could safely lower the barrel down to the ground without getting grabbed and squashed by the tentacles first. Cal dropped the barrel suddenly and began to sort through his diminished collection of potions.

"Hold that thing at bay for just a moment okay baby?" He suggested.

"Any ideas how?" Devi shot back, starting to uncoil her flail as she waited the arrival of the ghostly tentacles.

She quickly depleted another mystical charge on the ring of lightning bolts which adorned her right index finger, wrecking even more havoc on the ship and hopefully discouraging pursuit for a while.

Luckily with fewer potions it took Cal less time to locate the one he wanted. The alchemist yanked the top off and slathered its contents all over the barrel.

"All aboard who want to keep their heads!" He suggested grabbing hold of the barrel as best he could.  
>Devi followed suit and the bent his knees and jumped. The barrel shot skyward and easily rose up above the grasping tentacle which pursued them.<p>

"Flying potions, not just for leaving behind mobs of torch and pitchfork wielding villagers." He noted smugly.

As the barrel began to drift back over dry land and still showed no sings of slowing down (even if was moving at a speed no faster than a sedate walk) Devi cast her gaze downward.

"While it pains me to even consider questioning your brilliance... do you have a plan for how we get down, preferably before the spell wears off having carried us to the other side of the island if not out to sea?" The elf pointed out.

Some of the color drained from Cal's face as he began to once again sort through the potions he still had.

"It's not a problem I'm sure I've got a potion of heaviness left. That or at least one of feather fall that we can use to get down from here..." He muttered as he checked a few bottles carefully.

Devi blew out an exasperated sigh and then muttered a mystical phrase in her native langauge before striking out with her flail again. Her weapon extended to a truly unbelievable length and wrapped itself firmly around the base of one of the palm trees.

Devil started to heave and pull as best she could (while Cal kept a tight grip on her so she didn't fall off) and slowly the two of them dragged the barrel and themselves back down to ground level. The enchanted wooden barrel still floated a few feet off the ground but other than that it seemed content not to try anything more dramatic.

"We got it, and we got out alive, I'm calling that a win." Cal reflected.

(Scene Break)

Alexander sat on the beach by a small blaze made from some washed up wreckage. He'd retrieved a few other goodies from Devi's bag of holding and watched a process unfold before him with deep respect.

"Fire... some people say that's what separates man from beast." Alexander reflected, as he watched thin wisps of steam manage to break free from the pot he was carefully observing.

Said pot had its lid turned upside down, and was currently half filled with salt water and one carefully balanced canteen right in the middle.

"I have my own opinions on the matter of course, but still fire is doubtlessly one of mankind's most indispensable tools. It can be used to slay a foe, destroy siege-works, bring light to dark places, warmth to cold ones, cook meat, and it can also be used for the purposes of distillation. Oh yes, distillation, one of my favorite uses for fire, be it the creation of ale, or a few gallons of salt water into a few cups worth of perfectly drinkable water. You've never lost your chance at survival so long as you have fire." Alexander declared proudly.

Florence was sitting about twenty feet off to his side, keeping a fair bit of distance between herself and the flames he was tending.

"You don't have to be that far away you know. I understand the fact that I couldn't find enough rocks for a firebreak makes you nervous, but fire doesn't exactly spread across sand all that well either." He pointed out.

Florence shot him a playful smile of her own.

"No it's fine. You stay over there with your fire and see if you can purify a couple glasses worth of water every few hours. I'm sure you'll be able to find enough wreckage to keep it going, and distill fresh water fast enough for two humans, an elf, and a werecat to have all they need to drink.

Meanwhile I'll just sit over here and try to keep myself from from bursting into hysterical screams at the sight of your raging bonfire.." Florence then calmly plunged a hand into her own pot of salt water.

Her brow furrowed as she swished her limb about the pot several times. Then she withdrew it clutching a small mound of salt crystals which she casually tossed aside. She repeated the process twice more and then pushed the entire pot aside.

"There, now I can finally feel safe again given since I've got this entire pot full of nice potable water to put out your fire with." She informed him cheekily.

Alexander sighed, carefully lifted his own pot up and placed it down on the sand before stomping out the fire he had created. He crossed the distance between himself and Florence in a few easy strides and knelt down beside her planting a respectful kiss on her cheek.

"The problem of course with considering fire some kind of sacred icon is that its important to remember where we get fire from in the first place. If we humans didn't have trees then we'd really be left trying to navigate a flow of excrement by hand." Alexander admitted.

Florence nodded in agreement. "Correct as always Alex, after all I believe most people tend to find wooden paddles a lot more effective than metal or stone ones, to say nothing of water going craft." The dryad reminded him.

(Scene Break)

"Are you sure you don't want me to sort this out?" Mirri asked after James' third 'failed' attempted at hunting.

Luckily so far he'd always managed to put enough distance between himself an her that she didn't seem him letting go of the prey.

"No it's fine." James insisted as he transformed from cat to human form taking a moment to adjust his outfit to make sure everything felt right. He pointed a hand upwards toward some of the brightly squawking birds above.

"Those things can't stay awake all the time, and I can climb trees without worrying about getting stuck in them..." The werecat boasted.

What James left unsaid was his concerns that if Mirri decided to use her abilities some of the weird rat creatures might not be strong willed enough to resist her call. In the obedient trance that descended upon the animals Mirri controlled there would be no way to pick the keekees from their brighter cousins, assuming that there were any keekees at all on this island.

But so long as he made sure to hunt on his own he could deal with that problem, he'd just have to expand his normal hunting preferences a little. He might be limited to fresh meat but cats could hunt and devour all manner of prey!

As that thought drifted through the back of his mind James was careful to sway out of the way of a spider web. Spiders... it'd be a warm day in Lamordia before he got that hungry!

End Chapter

Chapter 4 Author's Notes:By the way, just for reference that cat that beat James at rat catching is totally a thing that exists in Ravenloft, look up Water Cats.

Also some quick restrictions on Devi's bag of holding that the characters in story all know so well I could not come up with a convincing reason for them to discuss.

1: It can't hold anything alive.

2: It can't hold anything sentient.

The above are why Mirri stashes her coffin in the bag but didn't just climb into it herself during the boat trip, and equally why James can't store rats inside it.

Also speaking about magical effects, if you can't tell by now, James' outfit has something like a wild armor spell cast on it (probably by Florence) or whatever the lycanthrope equivalent of it is (there's no real rules for what kind of magic to use to let a werebeast's clothing meld with their body, but there's really no reason that some kind of spell along those lines shouldn't exist and we can leave aside the "keep the armor" bonus aspect of it because James is probably some weird splatbook class like Brawler or Battle Dancer that doesn't use armor at all) long story short, his clothing/stuff is just sort of absorbed into him when he changes shape rather than falling into a pile at his feet/being ripped to shreds.

If you were interested the method Alex is using for distilling water should be perfect accurate /repeatable in real life (the more you know!) Also if you haven't guessed yet, yes Florence has a veritable pile of plant based abilities, in this case she's showing off a mangrove like ability to cast off salt while leaving water behind, though of course she can do it far better than any normal plant. Expect to see more of her tricks as this and other stories go on.

As a warning this and chapter five were sadly too long (had some scenes that needed some space /time between them) to be one chapter, but are too short for two real chapters on their own. So chapter 5 is going to be a lot shorter. On the other hand that also means it should be up sooner!

As always don't be afraid to comment, love to hear what people think of how this story is going!


	5. Chapter 5

Monster Party Book 1: I hunt therefore I am!

Chapter 5: Looks for the bare necessities, the simple bare necessities!

"Cal, James and Mirri weren't able to find anything worthy of talking about, even rats, I hope you have better news." Alexander greeted the two as they returned from their journey.

"Good news? Oh believe me, for once I'm all about good news. Devi lets show boss just what we found." The alchemist and the elf dragged the barrel they had retrieved over and then unscrewed its top once again.

Sunlight glinted off its contents as everyone gathered around to take a look.

"Remember, to only drink it all in with your eyes and not any other parts of your body." Cal boasted.

Sloshing back inside the barrel were several gallons of fresh water. Enough that with Devi's emergency canteens they were officially more likely to die of starvation than dehydration, not that the group would wanted to consider matters in that particular light.

(Scene Break)

In the darkness of night one of the jungle island's brightly colored fowl rested in the high branches of a mighty tree. It had buried its head under a wings to help block out whatever light remained, confident that its position several dozen feet off the ground and lack of natural airborne predator's offered security.

There were no other housecats on this island, James was relatively sure of that. After all, one had to keep in mind the "domestic" part of felis domestica, if there were no demi-humans (and they certainly had not encountered any yet) it only made sense that there would be no cats.

No others hunters who were exactly the right size for disposing all manner of avians. Not only that, but within the body of James Firecat was natural feline agility and hunting prowess married to human intelligence and general primate familiarity with trees.

He shot upwards with speed that would have impressed most monkeys let alone most cats, and in the minimal light of a new moon his bright red pelt might as well have been midnight black. Foot after foot of bark fell behind him he ascended upwards, his movements swift and sure.

Then he finally came level with the branch that held the sleeping bird. Hunger was making James feel considerably less merciful than normal and so his plan for this hunt was to be upon the bird and shatter both of its wings with his paws before it had a clue what was a going on.

That deed done he'd be able to interrogate it at length without fear of it flying away. If it was intelligent, he could carry it back to Florence for her to heal, otherwise...

The bird's feet rested firmly upon the tree branch no doubt ready to wake at the slightest disturbance. Sadly for this particular parrot the natural grace of a housecat refined with years of practice dealing with delicate booby traps had left James with footfalls that could make even his fellows felines seem loud and boisterous.

No, his prey had been perfectly selected, his approach brilliant, all that was left was the pounce.

Before he could strike a shocking scream filled the air. It sounded almost human, like a condemned soul being dragged to the deepest abyss. The scream resounded throughout the entire jungle and at once the bird was awake.

It squawked in anger and either only now sensing James' presence or simply disturbed by the loud noise took flight. James watched it go his body starting to lengthen and expand as he became a mixture of man and cat which would be far more effective for making his retreat back down the tree trunk.

That scream... it sounded familiar to him, but he couldn't quite place it. Still there was one thing he was certain of, after a noise like that he had no chance at all of coming upon any more birds comfortably and completely asleep. Not tonight at the very least.

(Scene Break)

In his hybrid form James slunk back to the camp and hefted up the lid of Mirri's coffin. It began to slam shut almost as soon as his handpaws left its side, but with almost serpentine speed and slenderness he slithered inside.

Between Mirri's knowledge that she wouldn't always be sleeping alone and her own innate vanity she'd made sure to pick out just about the largest most spacious coffin she could find, which meant that there was room for a layer of dirt and two full grown people inside it, provided they had no use for personal space.

"How is my might hunter doing?" Mirri asked playfully, glad to have James return to her side.

"I came, I saw, I feasted." He responded with all his trademark exuberance.

Mirri pressed a gloved hand to his lips before he could speak further.

"James, do you really think you've ever spent enough time licking yourself clean that I couldn't smell blood on you after you've eaten? You didn't catch anything." She noted with a frown.

Her hands reached out and ruffled James' hair.

"It's been a long time since you last lied to me, what's gotten into you?" James blushed, thanks to her keen senses (and his own distinct lack of skill at dissembling) Mirri tended to peg his lies almost faster than he could tell them.

Ones of omission were about the safest he was likely to get.

"This place just doesn't agree with me. Lots of new animal sounds that I haven't heard before, stuff like that throws of my hunting mojo. I'm sure I'll manage to find something worth eating by tomorrow night.

We both know how I like to avoid waste, but if I have to I'll start hunting in hybrid form and take down something biggish and share what's left with Alex and the others." James promised her.

"See that you do, I don't like it when you don't eat." The vampire told him in a voice that brooked no disagreement.

James began to fiddle with the buttons of his collar, revealing the skin that lay beneath it, and how it was marred by a pair of small circular scars located near the base of his neck.

"I'm not exactly a big fan of it myself." He admitted ruefully,

"Remember, if you start to starve, then I'll start to stave, and I can't have that." Mirri pointed out even as her eyes alighted on James neck.

James took Mirri's gloved hands in his own and gripped them tightly.

"We both know it doesn't work like that, I'm can be semi-daily carnivore if I have to, unlike my favorite daily hemovore." He suddenly let go of Mirri's hands and began to remove his own gloves.

Then he brought two fingers to the base of his wounds and pressed hard, even giving a slight twist just to make sure he achieved the desired effect. The constantly reforming scabs waging a never ending war between Jame' lycanthropic constitution and the mystical sharpness of Mirri's fangs were torn asunder yet again by his actions.

Bright crimson droplets began to dribble from his throat.

"Whoops, clumsy me." James noted, the words so blatantly untrue that it was clear that not even he believed them.

"No sense letting good, letting great blood go to waste." Mirri admitted and leaned forward to start to lap at the werecat's throat.

By the time she was finished the pair had managed to shift positions so that Mirri was straddling James instead of the other way around.

"I'm counting today as day two." Mirri announced while holding up her index and middle finger.

"It doesn't matter if I have to make like a mother bird and kill something, chew it up, and vomit it down your throat, you're eating something before day three is over." She insisted most vehemently.

James nodded laying back against the dirt.

"I'll find something to eat soon, I promise." James said while once again grasping her hands earnestly.

"See that you do. Hunger makes monsters of more men than malice." Mirri noted in an almost sing song voice.

James leaned in and kissed Mirri passionately.

"Thank you for remembering." He said slowly.

Mirri shifted trying to look as aloof as one possibly could while sharing a coffin (even a very big coffin) with someone.

"I don't believe, but I remember all the same." She leaned in and bit James on the ear, but not quite hard enough to draw blood.

After all, if she didn't draw blood, she could bite as many times as she wanted.

(Scene Break)

With the sunlight came breakfast.

Alexander, Cal, and Devi all ate heartily. Florence simply sat out in open and casually committed photosynthesis.

Mirri (after returning her coffin to Devi's bag of holding) had staked out a position for herself in the shade of the trees, and James joined her. The werecat was drinking his fair share of the group's water and them some.

He might only need to eat as much as a housecat, but he still needed to drink the same amount of water as a normal human being, even more when his stomach was operating on "borrowed time" like right now.

"Stupid birds... stupid not stupid rats..." James muttered to himself carefully to keep his voice so low that even Mirri couldn't hear him.

The werecat would normally have filled the silence between himself and Mirri with idle chit chat about this that and something else, but with the dawning of today he was somewhere between having gone 48 and 72 hours without food.

When he hit the 96 hour mark... his parents had warned him about what happened if you went longer than that.

Suddenly his worries over keeping fed vanished as there was a tremendous rustling in the woods and a small tree was crushed beneath the weight of an approaching figure.

It was a huge malformed bear moving on its hind legs, its growling face was naught but a mass of puffy scar tissue and from its head grew horns that like those of a ram. It let loose with a bellow that would have sent lesser men running for the hills.

James Firecat stood up, drew a pair of knifes and faced the beast that most likely outweighed him ten times over with a smile on his face.

"What do you know Mirri, it looks like fresh meat is back on the menu!" James declared a wild smile filling his face.

He had no idea what this creature was, but he was willing to bet it was alive, and eating it would not prove deadly to someone with a werecat's constitution. Having already come to that conclusion, the actual matter of slaying the beast seemed like nothing more than a minor afterthought.

Not that he was likely to face it alone, Alexander had drawn his blade, Devi had uncoiled her flail, Cal was trying to draw a good solid bead on the beast and Mirri took up a position directly along side him.

Before battle could be joined however there came another crash from the woods.

What emerged was not another twisted bear, but a man. Granted he was a great bear of a man who was taller than even Alexander had considerably broader of shoulder.

He was dressed in simple brown leggings and a billowing shirt which hung down to his knees, and both garments were splattered with paint. Atop his round head was a wide brimmed straw hat. He carried a staff of gnarled wood, topped with what looked like a horse vertebrae.

"Minxy!" The man bellowed at the beast. "Don't frighten the nice people!" He commanded.

Shockingly the ursine beast obeyed, lowered itself down onto all fours, and lumbering slowly in the man's direction before vanishing back into the words. James watched it go with an expression torn between surprised relief and exasperation.

As for their mysterious savior, he favored them all with a playful smile.

"Terribly sorry about that, you must be the ship people! Wait here, I'll be right back..." He promised them and vanished back into the forest showing considerable skill (or at least knowledge of his surroundings) for someone of his size.

"Mirri how did this happen?" Alexander asked as he didn't sheath his blade, despite the fact that danger seemed to have passed.

Mirri clicked her tongue and cocked her head to the side slightly.

"No that can't be right... look we'll talk about it later Sir." The vampire suggested. Sure enough a moment later their new visitor returned holding not just a staff but a wicker basket full of berries which he thrust into James' hands.

"Here you go, house warming gift, or beach warming as the case may be. Sorry I didn't get here sooner, I was able hear the terrible storm that must have left you here of course, but it was so dreadful I thought that for sure nobody could have survived.

Then yesterday there was some smoke drifting from the beach and decided that I had best take a look, and well sure enough here you are! Welcome to the island, I'm Doctor Francis Vaster but you can call me Doctor Fran!" He boomed happily.

End Chapter.

FN: See what I mean by this and chapter four being too long for one regular chapter, and too short for two regular ones? On the other hand that meant this one got posted sooner so there's that.

Anyway lets take a break from that cliffhanger to discuss something much more interesting the biology (necrology?) of vampires and werecreatures in Ravenloft!

As previously mentioned James needs to eat fresh meat, and he wants to eat about a pound or so of it every day. That said, werecreatures in Ravenloft are able to go for four days straight without eating and don't suffer any "in game" side effects (in character they should be notably dour/worried about it of course), and they'll be fine so long as when they do eat they eat enough to make up for the meals they missed. (IE when James finally does find something to eat he'll want to eat his daily ration of meat once for that day, and once for every day he missed, so four times as much if he missed three days of eating) beyond that fourth day their hit points start to take a nose dive to starvation and their mood tends to shift from dour over lack of food to cartoony seeing your friends as walking drumsticks style crazy.

Vampires on the other hand will start suffering those sorts of side effects if they go a single day without feeding (and proper feeding for Mirri is 9 hit points a day which in real life would be equivalent to... f**k if I know. Hit points are and always have been an abstract system no matter what version of D&D you're playing.

Anyway, while Mirri is entirely correct to be worried about James not eating (he can't loose those hit points to starvation they belong to me!) James in turn is entirely right that having Mirri continue to feed from him is for the moment the right course of action.

Also, you can assume that James is built along Book of Souls rules for Ravenloft Lycanthropic PCs his strengths and weaknesses are something like this:

Phenotype: Werecat (domestic).

Bloodline: Firecat/XXXXX (whatever James' real last name is).

James "Bloodline" (in regards to anyone he infects) starts with him as he's a true lycanthrope.

Trigger: (James doesn't transform based on this, but if he infected anyone they would) The presence of a tiny sized rodent or venomous invertebrate (scorpions, spiders) capable of harming humans with said venom.

Weaknesses:  
>Allergen: The substances that James is vulnerable to (one weapon one chemical) don't just bypass his normal defensesability to regenerate, they also cause him pain if he's forced to simply make skin to skin contact with them. His weapon vulnerability I'm keeping under my hat, but his chemical vulnerability is Mistletoe.

Mark of the Beast: This is normally only worth one slot, but I'd argue James' ears would be worth a two slot version of it, because while he can still hide it (hat, hooded cloak) if it is revealed, there's no way he can possibly pass for any branch of traditional demi-humanity. At BEST he might be able to convince people he's a Paka, which is a lot like telling the angry mob who wants to burn you for being diseased "Don't worry guys, I don't have leprosy, it's just ebola!" A theoretical three slot version would be something that couldn't be hid at all, like if James had a long feline tail that poked out from any pair of pants he wore.

Proficiencies:

Communication: James speaks fluent cat as we've already seen.

Damage Immunity: James probably has something like a two slot home-brew version of this that basically amounts to something like DR 10/Chemical or Weapon Bane. Magical spells hurt like normal, magical weapons bypass for weapon bonus only (sorry I hate the idea that +1 or better magical weapons are as good as a weapon made of the right material against lycanthropes, it just basically means "right so I'll keep using my best weapon anyway" and is thus too easy to fully bypass).

The point being that James is incredibly hardy to traditional attacks, but I also feel it is silly/makes no sense to believe that he could ignore something like being decapitated or stabbed in the heart (Coupe De Grace style attacks doing truly massive amounts of damage) just because they aren't done with the right kind of metal. Because he is a true lycanthrope he has this defense in any shape, but in human it will look like he doesn't at first. (The wounds will show up like they would on a normal human but in reality they'll be mostly superficial no matter how bad they look)

Power of Blood: Two slots worth here (immune to any non magical disease, and age at 2/3rds normal human rate past adulthood) , James is the youngest of the group, but he tends to look even younger than he really is.

Regeneration: Two slots here also. This is what makes James and Mirri's unique relationship possible. Most people who get drained by Mirri would need a cure light wounds potion IV line or several days of rest to recover the lost hit points. James gets back one hit point back every six seconds. So yeah, it works out something like this.

James: Hey that was fun, give me five minutes and I'll be ready to go again if you want.

Mirri: WOOF! Or in this case, MEOW!

That said while it does not directly say it in the rules, I think it's clearly within the intent to argue that starvation damage can not be healed by regeneration.

Transformation: Three slots, James is in such control of his shape that he can do neat things like turn just his hands (and only his hands) into claws.

Yes I know that's seven slots net spent on lycanthropic abilities alone (he probably also has another two in knives and detect/disarm traps) so James is at least 13th level.

Keep in mind all of the above once again is more guidelines than hard and fast rules, but hey maybe you found it interesting.

Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter the next one will be of more normal length, and thus take a bit longer than this one did, savor the suspense!


	6. Chapter 6

Book One: I hunt, therefore I am!

Chapter Six: Helping anyone in need, no one can succeed like Doctor Robert!

Now that they could get a closer look at him it was possible to see that Doctor Fran had large green eyes, along a thick bushy mustache and beard that were mostly black but were starting to pick up a few flecks of gray here and there.

Alexander very slowly slid his sword back into its sheath and approached offering one of his smooth slim black glove.

"Alexander Diamondclaw, I'm the leader of the 'ship people' as you called us." He introduced himself.

Doctor Fran took Alexander's black glove in his much bigger and rougher brown one and clearly gave the silver haired man a hand shake that was jovial and enthusiastic to the point of fracturing a weaker man's bones.

"It's a pleasure, a great pleasure to make your acquaintance! I'm just glad that I was able to get to you before any of the broken ones more vicious than Minxy did." He gushed.

Alexander worked to win his hand free first chance he got and raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Broken ones?" He repeated the phrase, unsure of its meaning.

Doctor Fran nodded sagely.

"Yes, that's what they tend to call themselves, those who have the wit to call themselves anything at all. If you mostly stuck to the beach yesterday you might not have seen any, but as you go further island this place is regrettably teaming with them. It's a long story would you care to hear it on the way back to my estate?" He invited.

"You have an estate?" Cal inquired eagerly surging forward, clearly eager to spend the night sleeping on something other than a bed of grass, sand or dirt.

"That's just what I call it, my own little joke you see..." Doctor Fran announced in a voice so loud that it was hard to believe that there might ever be anything 'little' about the man.

"Still, it'd be more comfortable lodgings than you're likely find out here. Not only that by my manservant Orson can do some wonderful things with the local flora and fauna. If you don't believe me, well just take a good look. It's not exactly easy to put on weight after you get shipwrecked but I seem to have managed it all the same!" He noted with playful self deprecation.

As he was speaking of matters culinary James Firecat continued to stare gobsmacked at the basket of berries he had been given.

His was the expression of a devout missionary who had traveled to a distant land and been honored with some pagan fetish. It was clear what he was holding was a gift of some importance, but all the same... what exactly was he suppose to do with it?

"I think we'd all be very interested in seeing your home and sampling your stores if you are kind enough to offer." Devi cut in, taking the wicker basket from James before the werecat's expression of concerned befuddlement could be misinterpretation as fear that the berries might be poisonous.

"You are one and all quite welcome! Thanks to my unique situation I am quite well stocked for provisions but have a great dearth of company. It's been years and years since someone actually managed to survive a shipwreck on these treacherous shores. That would be my ward, Delphi, poor girl was little more than a stripling when I first found her. I'm sure my assistant Felix will be delighted to find that this time around he won't need to worry about changing any of this batch of arrivals. Come, come, it's a bit of a walk I am sad to say but we should be able to get back in time for a late lunch at the very least!" Doctor Fran promised them.

The adventurers shrugged, and as remaining on the beach was unlikely to offer them much in the way of new information, protection, or hopes of escape they decided to follow the dark haired man into the jungle.

"You were going to tell me about the 'broken ones' on the way, right?" Alexander reminded their guide.  
>The silver haired man's long sure stride allowed him to easily keep up with his more corpulent companion's rolling gate.<p>

"Yes, yes of course. It all started... well I'm sad to say that quite honestly I have no idea how it all started. I only arrived on this island myself somewhere between two and three decades ago. Can't be sure of the exact year, it does terrible things to a man's memory living mostly by himself with fewer people to talk to than he can count on his fingers. I hope you can understand Mr. Diamondjaw." The Doctor began.

"Diamondclaw." Alexander reminded him, but after his experiences working alongside James he was surprisingly tolerant of eccentrics... so long as they made good on their promises.

"Ohh, of course, I do beg pardon, as I said my memory isn't quite what it used to be. At least I think it's not quite what it used to be, when one's memory starts to go, how can one be truly certain that it was ever any better? To do would require them to recall something clearly and if I could do that... I trust you see predicament." He admitted.

A curt nod from Alexander was all it took to get him to continue along.

"Anyway as I was saying, by the time I washed up on this island, I'm afraid things had already not so much reached a boiling point as an evaporating one. Luckily over the years I've been able to piece together at least some of it from various journals and writing I found of those who came before.

This island was once relatively prosperous as such places go with a thriving human population, instead of one whose numbers may have ended up nearly doubling with your arrival. You see one day a horrible plague came, I'm not sure of its source, though it might have something to do with the bizarre mystics who may still inhabit a fortress about half a day or so from my estate.

At first it seemed to simply winnowed out the population as most diseases do, but then it began to affect the animals as well. It wasn't killing them, it was... changing them, transforming them in ways that I would find impossible to believe if I had not seen so many examples with my own eyes.

The plague then turned this new horror upon the remaining people of the island. It made beasts grow more intelligent, but sadly no more wise, and humans far more bestial until it became impossible to tell if such creatures started life as animal or man.

Those descendants of the islands original population are the 'broken ones' I was referring to. They are dangerous, but for the most part not malicious, they are far smarter than any normal animal, but by and large they tend to have the mindset similar to a child's.

Over the many years I've managed to come to something of an understanding with them. I will do what I can to pull thorns from paws, patch wounded pelts, and otherwise offer them some small amount of help. In return, they have realized that to attack me would be an act of baseless cruelty bringing naught but suffering upon them in the long run.

As long as you're traveling with me you should be equally safe." Doctor Fran explained.

Before Alexander could offer any more questions all of a sudden Florence was at his side and tugging on his shoulder forcefully.

"We need to talk.." She whispered to him in Forfarian figuring the the official language of Forlorn (and just about nowhere else) would be obscure enough that it would be nothing but gibberish in Doctor Fran's ears.

Alexander turned a pained gaze upon the groups newest acquaintance.

"Just a moment Doctor, something has come up." He and Florence slowed their pace and before long they were surely out of earshot of not just Doctor Fran but probably the rest of the group as well.

"This jungle, I didn't notice when we were on the beach, but.. it's wrong." Florence warned him.

Alexander instantly began to look just about every which way except at the dryad, clearly suspecting that he might be ambushed at any moment.

"Wrong how? Evil treants, some sort of foul curse?" He inquired his green eye shifting wildly about all the while.

"Nothing that obvious, but look where I'm pointing what do you see?" Florence asked while gesturing towards one very tall tree.

"A very tall tree?" Alexander guessed, if a tree wasn't currently sprouting thorns or trying to murder him they all tended to look alike to him.

"It's an oak tree Alex, now what does that tell you?" Florence asked.

"That it's an oak tree?" He admitted, feeling quite unsure of where his companion was going with this.

Florence pressed a hand to her head in irritation and turned her eyes downward in exasperation.

"Okay, back on the beach, palm trees. Out here in the interior, oak trees. Oak trees and palm trees within walking distance of one another!

Let me put this in terms you might understand since they have to do with matters military. Falkovnia and Lamordia share a border. On one side of that border you see men in full platemail marching together in square formations armed with pike and crossbows. On the other side you have a much smaller army, probably not even a standing one made of up of people who are unencumbered by armor, fight in a line rather than a block, wield the bayonet and the rifle instead of the sword and the bow.

The two could not possibly any more different. How can two military forces so completely different from one another can exist side by side?" She pointed out.

"Because Vlad Drakov is a fool who somehow managed to bumble his way into control of a nation and has learned less about military tactics than I've forgotten. He seems to come from the school where the most important thing about battles is that there be a staggering number of casualties involved, and if they're on the other side well that's convenient but ultimately unnecessary." Alexander answered.

Florence's head bobbed up and down in agreement, glad to see that they were finally making progress.

"Yes that's right. It takes the direct intervention of a darklord to achieve such a result. Well what is going on in with these trees... it is every bit as dramatic." Florence warned him.

Alexander looked around again and then he shrugged.

"Okay so whoever the darklord of this island is, they have some very strange interests in improbable botanical arrangements. I'll keep that in mind in case it comes in handy later on." He promised her.

"You're a beast." Florence growled in disdain.

"None beastlier." Alexander wore the insult with pride.

While Alexander was having this side discussion Cal had caught the tail end of his original one with Doctor Fran and made his way forward to pick up on it.

"So it to make a long story short, it sounds like you've been stuck on this island for at least two decades. Did you never think about leaving, or is there some sort of evil force keeping you here?" The alchemist inquired.

All of a sudden Doctor Fran spun around and drew himself up to his full height towering over the blond haired adventurer.

"The only force keeping me here is my own conscience. Yes I did in fact originally imagine that it might best to escape this place, but by the time I could have collected enough resources to accomplish such a task, I realized just how deplorable the condition of the island's inhabitants are.

I couldn't bring myself to depart while they still suffered, and I have no intention of leaving the island until I found a way to reverse the horrific plague." The Doctor insisted.

Cal took a step back, and clutched Phoenix a bit more tightly than he really needed to.

"Ah okay... I can respect that. That said, you wouldn't have a problem with other people leaving would you?" He asked tentatively.

The black haired man spun around and started walking again.

"Not in the slightest. I understand that my own personal crusade may be my undoing sadly. The plague has mostly burnt itself out, but only mostly. I'm sad to say that over the years this island has worked its magic upon me as well. If you remain, long enough you may fall victim to it as well..." To prove his point he removed one of his heavy gloves revealing a hand that wasn't so much hairy, as outright furry, and quickly put the glove back on.

"Oh that explains it!" Mirri exclaimed with delighted surprise.

"Explains what?" Doctor Fran asked in confusion as he focused his attention on Mirri for the first time.

Mirri promptly realized that she was probably the only one present who was able to hear someone's heart beat as easily as most people could tell red from blue. The Doctor's heartbeat had been going just a bit too fast, to her it was like seeing someone who had eyes that were not quite level with one another.  
>Now that she realized he must had some animal in him, she filed that irregular heartbeat away as simply a facet of who he was rather than an unexplained mystery, much like how James' continued to strobe along its merry way like a happy purr, resounding twice for every time Cal, Devi or Alexander's did.<p>

Still she couldn't tell Doctor Fran that.

"I was just wondering how you could have been clumsy enough to squash so many berries against so many different parts of your outfit, but I just now realized you must be a painter." She explained, employing all the classic tricks of misdirection from correct emotional tone in her voice, to proper muscle control of expression, to making sure to look the person deep in the eye (demi-humans of every kind were trained to trust those who could look them in the eye) and maybe just a slight sprinkling of vampiric charm gaze.

Whether it was one particular ingredient in that mixture (probably that last one), all of them together being greater than their individual parts, or Doctor Fran being something of a soft sell he, bought her words hook line and sinker.

"Oh yes, being a doctor is my craft and true calling, but I find painting a most relaxing and enjoyable hobby. Tell me are you a student of the art as well dear lady?" He boasted, clearly every bit as interested in discussing painting as James normally would be to talk one's ear off on the finer points of rodent removal.

"I am less a student and more a patron come prop." She admitted.

Doctor Fran's eyes narrowed somewhat as he strove to parse her language and Mirri filled it in for him.  
>"That means I like to commission others to do artwork, chiefly artwork of which I am the subject." She clarified.<p>

Doctor Fran gave her a very long once over.

"Ah of course! How foolish of me not to have realize it immediately. That said, I'm afraid you have the advantage my dear. I already told you and your companions my name, but I don't think I've heard your's yet." He reflected.

"You can call me Miriam." Mirri answered.

Granted by this point in her unlife Mirri placed her "real" name in much the same category as her love for ponies and dressage growing up, part of who she had been, but not part of who she was.

Still, it was a useful thing to call upon every so often when "Mirri" on its own didn't seem classy enough for the image she wanted to project.

"Ahh of course, hopefully with a face as enchanting as yours I will have no difficulty remembering it. Just don't be surprised if I end up making a mistake now and again as I'm sure Mr. Diamondmaw... no I can tell just from your expression I must have gotten wrong again..." The doctor confessed.

Sure enough, Mirri had buried her face in a gloved hand to hide her chuckle.

"Just a touch. Don't worry too much though, he's been called a lot worse." Mirri offered.

Delphi Vaster waited for her 'father' to come back. She knew that Francis wasn't related to her by blood, but all the same he was the only father she had ever known.

Normally whenever her father went out on his journeys she'd just find some way to amuse herself or focus on her studies while he was out. Not this time though, this time she was waiting by the gate that lead into the estate as enthusiastically as her father's chief servant in all matters menial Orson Arctos.

She'd intended to just wait and wait, and wait, but soon realized that perhaps the best of both worlds might be a better approached and headed off to the estate's miniscule (if understandably so) library to retrieve something to read while she waited.

Orson had a good heart, but even Delphi who had grown up with the huge man (he was even larger than her father) since childhood would be willing to admit that he was far from engaging company. He seemed to be possessed of a character so stoic that he could out-stare a snake, if it weren't for the fact that his eyes tended towards a near permanent squint, though one of tiredness rather than suspicion.

So since she could count on Orson to keep her safe (and though he might look sleepy there was no way he would betray her father's trust by actually drifting off while preforming a task as important as waiting for his return) Delphi buried her nose in a book title "guide to the known world" and wondered if she would ever get to see the ancient manners of Mordent, the extravagant fashions of Dementlieu or have her future read for her by some Vistana mystic!

The chances of that any of those things taking place were remote to say the least though and Delphi was enough of a realist to admit it. What she could hope for however was that father would not return alone form his journey to the beach.

It was not just the stomach churning storm that had struck the island recently but father said that he had seen smoke drifting from the beaches. Unless lighting had struck some part of a ship, lit it on fire, and allowed it to smolder far longer than it should have by all rights, that had to mean there were other people on the island.

Orson was the last person to have been washed up on the island but he'd been fully grown when it had happened and Delphi little more than a child. This time, this time maybe the rocks and seas would be more merciful and there would be more than a single survivor.

It would certainly be nice if there were new people, and she was torn on what gender to wish the survivors might be. On one hand, it felt unnatural (boarding on confusing or horrifying in a few particular instances) to be the only girl/woman on the island.

On the other hand, while she had never asked father his age, it was clear that both he and Orson were into their middle years. It would be nice to have a man more dependable than Felix to count upon if illness or infirmity took them.

All these thoughts and more jumbled around inside her head as she awaited the sound of her father's heavy approaching footsteps in between turning page after page of the already well read tome.

It was a shame to think that unless she was very careful she might wear this book out completely in another few years, in fact it had been falling apart since she laid hands on it, as far back as she could remember it had lacked most of the pages detailing with the world east of Borca.

Perhaps father could convince Felix or Orson (on second though Felix, definitely Felix) to create a copy of what remained for her while the original was still in one piece?

Then she heard the sound she'd been waiting so long for, and shortly there after her father came into view. Sure enough he had brought people with him. Not just a single person, but people! So many people!

Delphi's dark blue eyes swam with amazement as she realized that her father had brought back more people with him than there were previous occupants of his estate! The sheer amazement of such a discovery left Delphi slack jawed for a few moments and unable to think about anything else.

At least not until she saw HIM.

He was wearing the most outlandish outfit that she had ever seen, it was red, but not like the somber demure somewhat faded red of Felix's favored outfit, this was a bright and vibrant shade of the color. Yet for all of the exuberance of his outfit when she looked into large brown eyes, she saw pain.

Not the sort of pain that she had seen in Father's eyes after he had ended up accidentally cutting himself, but a 'deeper' pain than that. The kind of pain that Delphi had to imagine was caused by wounds upon the soul rather than upon the body.

Before she knew it she found herself racing past Orson (who was of course still holding the gate open) to meet them. She managed to make it about two thirds of the way there before she slipped on some uneven ground and began to tumble towards the ground.

She never reached it though, because already he was here for her.

He must have seen her about to fall and raced forward himself, and caught her in his arms.

"Whoops, you almost had a nasty fall there, are you all right?" He consoled her in a voice that showed none of the pain that was present in his eyes.

What a deep primal part of Delphi wanted to say was that she was, now that he was here, but it would never do for her to say something so vapidly romantic, especially in front of her father!

Instead she stuck to simpler and safer topics.

"Yes... I'm fine, I just lost my balance. I should be more careful, my father has warned me that I've been like this ever since I was young. There's something wrong with my 'inner ear', it can make me a little unsteady if I walk, a lot if I try to run. My name is Delphi Vaster by the way, who are you?" She asked the hansom young man in bright red.

"James Firecat." He answered, a name as dashing as his outfit.

End Chapter.

FN: Really not much to say about this one.

Well I did originally plan for it to be a bit longer, but then I realized that honestly I was never going to find a better line to go out on than the one that went with James introducing himself so I decided to just quit while I was ahead.

When the next chapter goes up, expect it to also be accompanied by the first of hopefully many Monster Party Side Stories, one chapter long "stories" that will give us some insight into our protagonists histories...


	7. Chapter 7

Monster Party

Book One: I hunt, therefore I am!

Chapter Seven: Food, Glorious Food!

"Delphi..." Her father coughed rather a bit more loudly than normal and with some help from James she fairly quickly managed to untangle herself and stand up straight.

"I'm sorry father I was just so pleased to see you had returned safely and wished to great our new guests." She replied demurely throwing in a careful curtsey that would keep her from needing to look Francis in the eye.

Luckily he father remained his usual affable self.

"That is all well and good Delphi, but I suspect that we could all get to know one another a great deal better sitting around a table eating lunch then standing out here in the open. Besides, I'm sure by now Orson will be grateful for a chance to go back inside won't you?" Her father pointed out.

Orson nodded his head very slowly.

"Yes. But what pleases me most is seeing you have returned." The towering man stated slowly.

Her father nodded in agreement and approached his manservant and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Well do not worry yourself any further on my account. Let us all head inside and see about dealing with lunch, hopefully we'll be able to find time to do a little talking in between the eating!" He predicted.

(Scene Break)

Mirri somewhat was taken somewhat askance by Doctor Fran's plans for a seating lay out, or at least as far as they concerned her (what other part of the layout should she really care about after all?) at the moment.

Understandably the Doctor himself was at the head of the table, he wish for Delphi to sit at his left and Mirri at his right. Apparently his two male servants/companions would be so busy cooking and serving that they would eat a separate meal of their own afterward.

He was also (clearly at his adopted daughter's suggestion) going to have James sit directly to Delphi's left. To her credit and as a show of the 'people skills' (in the sense of skills relating to getting along with rather than simply manipulating them) she'd gained over the last few years, this suggestion did not lead directly to Mirri tearing Delphi's head off and drinking deeply from the gushing crimson volcano that promptly erupted from her neck.

No she bore it up with the sort of faux good grace that had a great deal more to do with her existence as a human than as a vampire. After all, a proper noble lady never laughed at at a nobleman's follies in public no matter how great they were. More to the point she also did not resort to bodily harm against a rival (at least she did not inflict such harm herself) even if they had done something as brazen as deeming themselves worthy of claiming a seat next to your intended, though that would have made most parties a great deal more interesting and enjoyable in Mirri's opinion.

The key important element leading to her (temporary) acceptance of the situation was the sound of Delphi's heart.

It wasn't beating as fast as James' (people's whose heart beat went that fast tended to look even paler than Mirri and fall over dead before long) but it was still doing it's very best pitter patter. Suffice to say, if Mirri was any judge of such things, then Delphi had about as bad of a romantic crush as a girl who grew up on an island with the only other men around being her father, Orson (who had a face only his mother could love and looked about as inclined to romance as a rock) and this mysterious Felix whose acquaintance she had not met yet, but was willing to wager would be a similarly unappetizing subject for a young girl's affections.

It was understandable, and while James was only pretty in that earnest farm-boy way of his, he tended to be about as earnest as they came. So for the moment Mirri was willing to let Delphi have her crush.

Now if she tried to do something tremendously stupid like convince James that she should join him in her bed instead of Mirri's coffin at night, well then Mirri simply wouldn't have any choice but to start doing some interior redecorating using the interior contents of Delphi Vaster's body for art supplies.

Until that unlikely occurrence, she'd focus her attention on the man of the house, not that Mirri had anything approaching romantic interest in Francis Vaster (hell she barely had any romantic interest in James it was just that he was her's, and it wouldn't do for anyone else to be saddling her stallion) but it never hurt to have some emotional leverage with those in power.

That, and she as yet might get another painting of herself out of the matter.

"Now then before we have any talk let us get some food in us. I'm sure after scavenging for morsels on that beach you'll a ll be happy to see a proper meal!" Doctor Fran boasted, before ringing a silver bell.  
>A moment later Orson wheeled in a huge tray laden with fruits, breads, and a great side of roast beef as well. Following close behind him was Felix and it became obvious at once to Mirri why Delphi would have never imagined him as any sort of romantic partner.<p>

Just to begin with he was dressed in a some what faded red clerical outfit with a hat of a similar nature. He had coarse black hair and gray eyes that though clearly intelligent were about as warm as a Mirri's hands.

None the less he did his utmost to appear the proper servant complete with pristine white gloves as he began to slice of chunks of the beef (licking his lips all the while suggesting his own meal couldn't come soon enough) which due to small bits of leaking blood here and there seemed to have barely been cooked at all. James eagerly took several slices though Delphi passed instead preferring to focus on the cheeses and bread.

Doctor Fran filled his plate with great helpings of everything and Mirri's companions selected what they wished. The vampire herself simply sat back and allowed things to proceed apace not really caring who was eating what.

Granted it did not take long for such behavior to cause Doctor Fran to focus an inquisitive gaze upon her.

"Is there something the matter with the selection Miriam? If there is some dish in particular you desire I can have Orson search our stocks for it." He offered politely sounding more upset than angry.

Mirri just smiled back at him, and proceeded to make a number of important looking but otherwise utterly meaningless hand gestures. She followed them up with a sentence she had memorized in countless different languages (to the point that she could even say it in cat!) for how wonderfully useful it was.

"No thank you, I worship the Great Devourer Zhakata and am going to be fasting in his honor for the next few days." The only difficulty Mirri ever suffered when using those magic words was not breaking out in mocking maniacal laughter (or at least delighted sniggering) every time she said it.

Thank goodness for those bizarre idiots in G'Henna and their bizarre notions of what constituted acceptable religious practices!

Mirri of course had not one single shred of interest in any religion that preached some manner of self restraint as a virtue, and even less when self restraint came in the form of purposely starving oneself. That said, she'd found faking piety did much more to cast off suspicion from her inability to stomach any sort of solid food or liquids besides blood than any fanciful talk of disease or personal tastes.

In fact Mirri, had probably done more to spread the word of Zhakata worship across the land than most of his actual priests given that they tended to be an insular lot who also frequently (what a surprise) dropped dead of malnutrition while on sacred pilgrimages.

"Very well then, since you won't be eating would you care to lead us in conversation?" Doctor Fran offered.

Mirri of course was only to happy, especially since this presented an opportunity to focus on her favorite topic of conversation; herself, doubly so when it came artwork with herself as the subject.

"So tell me Doctor, on our way here you mentioned that you were a painter, but we never quite got around to talking about your own artistic skills and preferences." She reminded him.

Doctor Fran put away a great forkful of beef he'd speared, chewed and swallowed quickly and then was equally prompt with his answer.

"Sadly I didn't acquire that particular interest until I arrived on this island, and so most of my work has been animal themed. I am in point of fact trying to branch out my work to include humans as well but sadly there was only so much progress I could make with so few subject." He admitted.

A triumphant smirk came to Mirri's lips at this point, the kind she typically only got after feeding. Game, set, match, she was going to be getting a painting now she just knew it!

"Well then, it would sound like our interests would would lay along exactly the same lines. Perhaps when this meal is over if you have some free time you should show me your studio and I could offer you a new model to work from?" Mirri pointed out.

Fran nodded eagerly in between stuffing with his face with more of the beef giving Alexander a chance to cut in.

"Doctor, I must admit this small little estate you've set up for yourself does seem rather idyllic. Sadly, it's been my experiences that islands off in the middle of the ocean are often plagued by men, say better monsters who rule with an iron fist. The term most frequently used in the Core to describe such people is, 'Darklords', have you ever been troubled by one?" The silver haired man wanted to know.

Doctor Fran stopped eating and put down his utensils.

"Well, I'd hope to avoid possibly ruining a good meal with ill talk, but I will not deceive you Mr. Diamondpaw. If this island has a 'Darklord' as you say, it must unquestionably be Akanga." He admitted dourly.

At the mention of the name 'Akanga' Delphi put down the loaf of bread she'd been eating and gulped in fright.

"Akanga?" Alexander repeated the name slowly to make sure he had the pronunciation right.

"That's correct. He's a broken one, a grotesque mix of lion and man, and he styles himself the king of the island. I'm not sure what his origins are, he might have been some village chieftain or medicine man before the plague came, or perhaps he was a lion brought to the island by a trade ship as some sort of exotic pet, for my research has shown the storms that torment this island were not nearly so dreadful before the coming of the plague.

Either way, it would not be hard to tell him upon sight, as far as my own studies have determined he is the only broken one on the island who resembles a lion, a fact he touts it loudly as proof of his right to rule. However his 'rule' such as it is, is devoid of compassion, mercy or even pragmatism.

Akanga teaches that his subjects must embrace the inner beast that the disease has brought to the surface. That is why I and my estate have managed to survive as long as we have, Akanga can not gather many followers to his side before his own foul teachings will reduce them to mindless beast who refuse to obey orders.

Still, he is a being of tremendous power, and if he can not lead his 'subjects' on the offensive he can at least surround himself with a huge pack of frenzied followers who he has cowed into submission to act as guard dogs.

An unsteady peace of sorts has come exist between the two of us, he mostly prowls the east side of the island, and will even send his followers to me for treatment though he himself has never come. Either because he is too proud, too crafty to injure himself in any notable way, or he is some protected and healed by some greater power than I can comprehend." Doctor Fran explained, drumming one of his huge hands on the table all the while.

"So he is given an island rule, and yet his own vices prevent from enjoying it. Akanga certainly seems to fit the mold of a Darklord, quite well doctor. The Mists crave suffering, but not always of the virtuous." Alexander reflected.

The room was now completely still with neither the host, his daughter, or his guests eating. It was broken only when Delphi turned to her left and faced James.

"So where are you from?" She asked half to try and lighten the mood half just to sate her own curiosity.

"We're from all over, but if you meant me in particular, I'm from Richemulot." James answered all too readily.

Though he had been eating as quickly as anyone else Mirri could spot the signs which suggested he was doing it not from relief but just to get the pointless experience (clearly even though the meat was near raw it still failed to meet his need for fresh flesh) over with.

Delphi clasped her hands together in joy.

"Richemulot? I've read about it in one of father's books! Is it true that their people treasure secrets more than jewelery?" She demanded perhaps not quite grasping the irony of such a question.

"It's hard to say, my family was poor in both. I grew up in a small village, and everyone tended to know everything about us. One thing I can say with confidence is that the Le Grande Dame Jacqueline Renier is every bit as beautiful as I'm sure your books must mention!

I've only seen her in person once of course, but she visited my village when I was eleven, and even brought a basket of food for my family! She wasn't snooty about it all, she was even willing to join us for a meal! She said that we were a shining example of all things Richemulotian!

It still have a hard time believing it given that my father was a simple village alchemist, nowhere near as good as my friend Cal of course, and my mother oversaw the local library. There were few moments of greater pride in my life than when I personally swore allegiance to her!" James happily gushed his eyes misting over with the warm glow of nostalgia.

Mirri had no interest in food, but she'd still been given a complete table setting, and so she now picked up the knife and began to spin it about in a manner that at least looked absentminded.

"Why don't you tell us a little about yourself Delphi, do you have any hobbies?" She asked in a voice was the very imagine of politeness.

"Well there's not a lot to do around here, as you'll sadly find out before long. But I like to read, and I like to swim." Delphi answered.

This revelation caused James (who unsurprisingly liked the prospect of submersion in water only a hair more than Mirri did) to give his head a slight shake as tossing aside imaginary droplets, and his attention returned to the here and now.

"Unless there's a pool around here you've been hiding, you'd have to be a pretty strong swimmer to safely splash about in the waves that carried us here." Cal noted only briefly taking his attention off of having a lunch even more hearty than his breakfast.

"Oh I am! Probably because I've had so much practice, but I've gotten really good at predicting the waves. I probably like to swim more than I should. Father says that's how I got the way I am in the first place, I was swimming and some water got into one of my ears. It makes it hard for me to balance, but only on land. When I'm in the water though..." She let the statement trail off sounding as wistfully nostalgic as James had a few seconds ago.

"Getting back to the plague as much as it pains me to do so..." Florence cut in.

Much like Delphi she had eschewed the meat dish instead selecting only fruits and, cheeses and grains to dine upon (while she could subside on pure photosynthesis if she had to it didn't mean she liked the experience).

"Did you notice it having a strange affect upon the trees as well as the animals?" She inquired.

Doctor Fran had just taken a mouthful of bread it caused his cheeks to swell out like a chipmunks and he struggled to chew and swallow quickly so as to rejoin the conversation.

"The trees?" He muttered in bemusement his wide open eyes squinting slightly.

"Yes, the trees, in fact..." She put down her knife and fork and wrapped a hand against the table.

"Spruce." She announced with utter certainty. She then got up and walked over to the kitchen's wooden wall and wrapped a hand against it as well.

"Fir. Those... those aren't the kind of trees I'd expect to find in the middle of a jungle!" The dryad informed them.

Doctor Fan stared at his plate of food deeply and then shook his head.

"You know, you may be onto something there, I just never realized it myself! Some of the old journals I've found talked about the island's flora in terms that seemed most unlike anything I saw with my own eyes. It's possible that whatever strange powers lay behind the plague which has warped this island's populace also transformed it's terrain for some reason.

I'm afraid I've been so caught up in my research of the broken ones and the island's remaining natural animals that I paid next to no attention to the plant life since I found it uniformly harmless beyond a few poisonous berries or mushrooms here and there." He admitted, seeming quite ashamed of his oversight.

"Don't take it too hard Doctor." Devi comforted him, unlike the other three female occupants of the room she had not turned down the chance to unleash her inner omnivore.

"Desperate and dangerous times have a way of narrowing ones perceptions." The elf stated in a void devoid of passion.

"If you've been surrounded by the broken ones since you first arrived, one could hardly fault you for... missing the forest for the trees." She added with a touch of mirth.

"Still, a true man of science must not shirk from any possible avenue of research. Perhaps I should start taking sap samples. Sap, as bizarre as it sounds it's a possible vector for the disease that I had not considered before. When dealing with mystical miladies it is best to consider every possibility!" The Doctor pondered aloud.

"You say that according to the journals you found the storms were not so bad before the plague and Akanga came along?" Alexander cut in bringing the topic of conversation back around to the island's darklord.

"Well the people who made those writings were either dead or transformed into broken ones by the time I arrived so I am only able to make rough estimates but yes I believe it is likely so." Doctor Fran admitted.

"A disease affecting weather patterns is a bit much to swallow even for a magical one. However, it is entirely possible that the storms are caused by Akanga flexing his own mystical muscles. From my experiences most darklords have some means of rendering their realm both near impossible to escape from within and impossible to invade from without. It is more fanciful in some lands than others, but on an island being able to summon up storms on command has a brutal simplicity to it." The silver man surmised.

Doctor Fran crooked his head slightly.

"I'm afraid all talk of just what Darklords are or aren't capable of goes straight over my head. I'm just a simple doctor from Larmodia myself, so savage storms were nothing truly noteworthy to me. If they are being called by Akanga's will, well the only way to be sure would be to ask him wouldn't it? Ha, talk about putting your head in the lion's mouth! I'd be just as happy to leave that particular matter to nothing more than conjecture." He declared before they all returned their attention to the meal at hand.

(Scene Break)

After the meal was finished Doctor Fran let his servants take care of cleaning up while he took his new guests on a quick tour of the his small estate. It consisted of only two of buildings, the main two story one they currently occupied, and a much smaller one with a pair of rooms in it. The smaller one he'd gone over first, since it took less than five minutes for him to show them all there was to it.

"It's my guest house, though I must admit you'll be the first guests who will be making use of it. If I'd known so many of you would be coming I would have made it bigger, but you never known how many avians you'll wind up attracting when you build a birdhouse do you?" He admitted ruefully.

That had done he had taken them back to the main building and lead them from room to room on the first floor.

"This is the library, feel free to take a look around and borrow whatever you wish. Just try to treat it with care, it shames to me admit that my own fumbling fingers have destroyed far too many precious text, and when you're trapped a desolate island like this what text isn't precious?" He pointed out.

Alexander, Cal, Devi and Florence opted to stay behind but James and Mirri stayed with the doctor to continue the tour. Mirri because she was interested in seeing the doctor's painting studio and James' natural affinity for libraries was at the moment quashed by his hunger.

(Scene Break)

Once Doctor Fran had left the room and Cal counted off a good thirty seconds he went over to a book whose spine he'd noticed shortly after being let into the library.

"Boss, I don't think it says pleasant things about our host's tastes if his collection includes this..." He picked a book of its shelf and tossed it to his leader.

Alexander caught it, and spun it around to get a good look at its title.

"Book of Insufferable Darkness..." He read slowly and took a moment to carefully weigh the tome in his hands.

Then he flipped it open, revealing that between its front and back piece there was not a single scrap of parchment. The book had been carefully hollowed out and now resting inside it was a flask. Alexander lifted it free of the book, popped the cork, sloshed its contents about taking a deep sniff, and then a long swig.

"G'Henna 710, Contrary to your thoughts on the mater Cal I'd say this suggests he has excellent taste indeed." He reflected, returning the stopper to the flask and the flask to its home within the defaced book.

Cal sighed heavily and then attempted to snatch the book back from his commander.

"Jeez boss, I've heard of booze hounds, but you're more like a booze bloodhound when it comes to sniffing out the stuff." The alchemist admitted.

(Scene Break)

"And this is my menagerie. It's not much but its at least a place for me to store the rare plague free animals I or my servants manage to capture when I'm not studying them in my laboratory." Doctor Fran explained though James cold barely hear the words.

"OH THANK GOODNESS!" He cried out sounding almost delirious with delight.

"I beg pardon?" Doctor Fran asked, not sure what to make of the young man's unbridled exuberance.

"Sorry, it's just that black leopardess, you found it recently right?" He asked while pointing in the direction of the caged beast in question.

"Yes, Orson and Felix managed secure it the same night that I first saw the smoke from your arrival. It had a wound in its side that could have gotten rather nasty if left untreated, but I managed to set it to rights before I headed out to get acquainted this morning." The doctor admitted.

James made a flippant gesture of wiping sweat off his brow.

"That's good. That leopard, it was being carried on the same ship that we were. It's nice to see we're not the only survivors, that's all. Even if she's in a cage again, you've actually got her a much bigger one for her than she used to have." He lied.

Even while James was talking to Doctor Fran every so often his eyes would flicker in the direction of the cages.

Past the black leopard, past the pair of lamas, past the five goats, past the two ferrets, past the four wild pigs, past a big cage that was currently empty (someone had scrawled "ursus" on the side of it), past some sort of large flightless bird he couldn't easily find a name for, onto the final cage in the room.

The final cage that contained a trio of rats that had to be at least two feet long each if they were an inch. James licked his lips in exactly the same manner that Felix had while cutting the beef.

End Chapter.

FN: To see more of James' meeting with La Grande Dame read the Monster Party Side Story "à mal rat, bon chat"

Also for this chapter guess I'll be addressing concerns in reverse chronological order so as to talk about what is doubtlessly freshest in your mind first.

To start with, once again I am not dropping down some kind of Deus Ex Machina for James to easily grant his desire for non sentient flesh (and non sentient rodent flesh at that!), the content of Doctor Fran's menagerie are taken exactly from the adventure book that this story is based upon. The last cage in it is said to contain not just three rats, but "three giant rats". It's not my fault if those rodents have a much greater significance to this adventuring party than they would to most. (I did alter the contents of the Book of Insufferable Darkness, but only in changing from an empty flask to one that was half full, because that makes it vastly funnier in my version)

Secondly: feel free to make a horror check at a -1, no make that a -2 penalty if you actually understood the implications of what James told Delphi about his past on your first read through.

Thirdly: Zhakata the Devourer is a "real" (long story, later books/stories will make it much more clear, let's just move along for now) deity in the Ravenloft setting, who does demand frequent (and frequently lethal) fasting sessions from his servants.


	8. Chapter 8

Monster Party Book One: I hunt therefore I am!

Chapter Eight: Ever fallen in love, in love with someone you shouldn't have fallen in love with?

Cal carefully removed the map that Doctor Fran had drawn of the island from its glass case.

"We're gonna need a copy of this sooner or later. Devi, my tools if you please?" He held one hand out while using his other to clear off a desk in the small library.

Devi produced another potion of some kind, though this one seemed to be far more solid than most of his tinctures. He twisted off the top and pulled out a lump of pink ooze which he began to spread across the map like a baker kneading dough.

Once that was done he returned the map to its container and flipped the stuff over revealing that it had left an imprint of the map on it.

"Ink?" There was nothing special at all about this bottle's contents and he spread it lavishly across the contents of his first bottle not caring if he defaced the desk a little in the process.

"Parchment?" Devi handed it to him and he pressed it firmly into the face of the ink soaked mass. He counted to ten and pulled it away revealing a close to perfect copy of the map.

"Science, it works." Cal declared proudly.

XX XXX XXX

"Lets see, how to begin..." Doctor Fran muttered as he began to mix paints and gazed out over his canvas at Mirri.

She shot him an appreciative glance back.

"Well do you wish me to hold a pose of some nature?" Mirri offered.

Doctor Fran grasped a brush in one of his thick hands.

"Do not feel pressured to do so by any means on my account! There is truth and purity in movement that is rarely found in stillness. Especially artificial stillness." He remarked.

Mirri nodded and began to pace about the room, examining Doctor Fran's other works of art that littered the room.

"The key to it is having the right shade of white, or should I say the selection of white shades. Tell me, were you sickly as a child? Your skin is rather more fair than most. I imagine some minor childhood malady might have that affect, but one that was obviously cast aside given your current grace." Doctor Fran reflected.

Mirri tore her eyes away from a painting of Delphi that didn't look quite right but she couldn't put her finger on why.

"My skin isn't fair, its pale. It comes with the entire being a vampire thing." Mirri deadpanned.

Doctor Fran dropped his brush to the floor and just sat there for a few moments, before breaking out in a deep rolling laugh.

"OHH HOO HOO AHH HA HA! A most excellent jest madam, I must admit that I was quite taken in!" Doctor Fran boomed.

Mirri sighed and shook out her hair.

"Kali bless you humans, you get so wrapped up in lying to yourselves that I don't even have to make the effort." Mirri reflected, a benediction that the doctor probably could have done without.

With a wave of her hands Mirri's form was suddenly surrounded by a cloud of white mist and when it passed she was gone. In her place stood a fully grown lioness, which opened its mouth and let loose with a mighty roar.

Doctor Fran now stomped his dropped blush flat in his sudden haste to put some distance between himself and his transformed model. The mist returned as quickly as it had come and Mirri once more stood in the center of the room.

"What's the matter doctor? Did you not believe me when I said I was a vampire?" She asked, her voice awash with playfulness and malice.

"I did..." Doctor Fran replied in a startled voice that suggested he very much had not.

"I was just expecting any transformations you undertook to yield something decidedly more... lupine in nature." He muttered in a most ungraceful attempted to cover up his disbelief.

"Contrary to popular belief not all vampires turn into wolves. We tend to take the shape of the apex predator available to us in our native homeland. Equally contrary to popular belief not all vampires come from Barovia." Mirri explained.

Doctor Fran slowly and carefully settled himself back onto his artist stool grateful that like any true artist he had more than one brush to work with.

"Well then, I suppose that you were probably from some decidedly dusty place like Har'Akir, though I can't image such a homeland would be very attractive for a vampire." Doctor Fran reflected.

"My homeland was indeed a much less hostile to someone of my nocturnal nature than someplace as sun-baked as Har'Akir. To be honest lions were a bit of an anachronism there even when I was young, but if I turned into what wasn't... well that would be far too on the nose for the Mists.

As for where that is, a gentlemen wouldn't ask and a lady wouldn't tell." Mirri pointed out, keeping secrets, sometimes even unnecessary secrets was one of the few human habits she had never got the hang of breaking despite her long years as a vampire.

Doctor Fran looked at the still blank canvas and then back at his subject.

"Much as I hate to forgo the possibility of further stimulating conversation... was the lion merely the most powerful predator nearby or do you actually feel some affiliation with the beast?" Doctor Fran inquired leaning forward slightly, as an idea began to percolate in the back of his mind.

Mirri looked her prospective painter up and down slowly before responding.

"How kind of you to notice. Yes, there's a reason I twisted my old family's name, and no I won't tell you what that was either, into 'Catwarrior', after all is the lioness not one of the fiercest huntresses in the world? The lion used to be my family's symbol, the male of the species of course, but what can you expect when it was a patriarch's decision?

Either way, you should be glad I am a vampire Francis. Why do you think I'm so interested in having my picture painted? I know I'm striking and truly a sight to behold, but when mirror's refuse to capture one's reflection, it becomes necessary to grow creative if you wish to bask in your own brilliance." Mirri pointed out.

Doctor Fran considered her point for a few moments dabbing a dry brush against his canvas.

"Ahh, I can understand your point of course. Sadly I feel my own meager skills may end up disappointing you.

While I was still in the Core before taking the ship voyage that sadly ended with me getting washed ashore on this island I heard stories of a strange device being created in my homeland.

Some sort of mechanical contraption that 'painted' images with shadow and light so as to perfectly reflect the state of how things were. I'm not sure if they ever successfully implemented the idea the thing or if their attempts tended to suddenly grew additional legs with which to hunt down those who it was used on as mere images would no longer be enough to sate its hunger or malfunctioned in some other equally spectacular manner as I'll admit Lamordian creations are wont to do.

The fact remains, that if such a device exists, then it could capture a 'perfect reflection' of sorts far better than any human hand. In which case why bother to have painters at all?

Because it is the task of the painter to reflect not how something looks, but the deeper truth of the object's nature! If I am to paint your picture I must capture you not as I see you, but as you see yourself, your inner..." Before the good doctor could go any further Mirri cut him off.

"Do not be so trite as to say 'soul' especially as I ceased to have one long ago as far as I can tell. I'll accept 'essence' or, 'spirit', though of course my personal favorite term is 'animus'." She paused for a moment and began to run her gloved hands along her lips in a rather feline gesture though her tongue stayed firmly between her teeth.

"It can refer to both the spirit that drives ones actions, but also a spiteful or malevolent will. The more you get to know me Doctor, the more obvious it will be that both definitions apply." Mirri concluded.

"I wouldn't dream to disagree with such a beautiful monster." Doctor Fran replied before dipping his brush in a jar of paint, finally feeling quite certain of how to go about his task now.

"Please, once again feel free to wander about the room and assume whatever form you wish to pass the time..." He intrusted her before getting down to work.

XXX XXX XXX

Alexander looked around the small woodland glen that he and Florence had staked out for themselves. They were outside the wooden palisade that ensured them safety but he was not especially worried. Florence used her magic in order to hollow out a large rotting tree (she said it was a pine and Alexander knew better than to argue with her on such matters) to make room for both of them inside it.

"So do you have a plan for how to deal with Akanga?" Florence asked politely.

"Do I have a plan? Don't I have a plan?" Alexander responded sardonically.

"Do, I have plan..." He muttered to himself a little bit more intensely.

"If getting rid of Darklords was as simple as finding a big and shiny enough sword and stabbing them half a dozen times with it then there wouldn't be any left." Alexander reminded him.

"If Akanga does have an army, or at least a mob of broken ones defending him, we'd probably need an army of our own to challenge him. I don't think Doctor Fran has one of those tucked away somewhere but just hasn't gotten around to telling us yet.

So, instead we're probably going to need to focus on a way to take away his army, and just slicing and dicing our way through all of them... well lets just call that 'plan B' for now.

Instead... Doctor Fran said that Akanga considers himself born to rule as the only broken one of lion stock on the entire island. Well, lets see if we can't give him some competition..." Alexander steepled his hands together deviously and stood up, being careful not to bump his head in the process.

"Yes, that's exactly what we'll do. Unless someone else hits me with a better idea, I'm going to go talk with Cal. He probably still has some blond dye and adhesive left on him, you can help me gather up some straw or vines or whatever we have on hand. Florence, how long has James been working with us?" Alexander asked casually.

"About a year give or take, why?" The Dryad answered without any hesitation.

"Excellent, in that case I think he's about due for a promotion. What do you think of taking him form official trap finder to something more dignified. Do you think he might fancy being a King of the Jungle?" Alexander suggested, his single eye filled to the brim with delight at his own brilliance.

XXX XXX XXX

"Finished!" Doctor Fran spun the canvas around at least revealing what several hours of hard worked had produced.

Mirri who had been napping lazily in her lioness form (in a position most unlike any housecat as she had selected one upon which no beam of sunlight was ever going to fall) roused herself from slumber and promptly returned to her human form to better gauge his work.

One look at it was all she needed to pronounce judgment. "Purrrffect." She trilled.

The picture was done in a rough and unsteady hand, but one whose owner refused to let lack of raw physical talent get in the way of a deep burning passion. It's setting was an almost nightmarish landscape, a nearly deserted savannah at night with illumination coming form unknown sources.

At the center of the image was the arresting figure of a pale lioness who had just finished feasting upon a fallen zebra or some other such animal the prey's nature was hardly important. There was no sign of other lioness, just this one lone solitary hunter, who had claimed the prey on its own and was now content to share the meal with none but her own gullet.

Such an image would doubtlessly have turned the stomach or at least given gooseflesh to most ladies of noble birth who would look upon but to Mirri, it was brilliance on canvas.

She even went so far as to plant a reserved kiss upon Doctor Fran's cheek.

"A most successful outcome my dear doctor. Though I would make sure to sleep with one eye open in case I feel the need to give you a catnip some night for the sheer malice of it. It is in my nature for my affection to come with many a barb after all." The words left Mirri's lips with an almost sensual flare to them.

XXX XXX XXX

Delphi slowly awoke at her normal hour in the middle of the night. Father wouldn't approve of her going out there and cavorting with the victims of the island's illness (doubtlessly afraid she would catch their disease if nothing else) but the dark haired girl had never felt anything but safe with her friends who swam among the waves.

She carefully draped herself in a heavy cloak and lit a candle to take with her. She began to descend down from her room and prepared to sneak out of the manor like she had so many times before.

Tonight was different however, tonight as she was making her way downstairs she heard sounds coming from the menagerie. They were not normal baying, bleating or growling either, it sounded as if the animals father's menagerie were quite disturbed!

Unable to resist curiosity's pull she headed in that direction, arriving outside it just in time to hear a voice that must have belonged to a creature neither man nor beast, for though she could make out the words they were growled by a voice ill-suited to the task of shaping them.

That didn't even take into account how little sense the words themselves made.

"Squeak, squeaker, squeakin, *****es." It declared.

Bracing herself for the horror that no doubt resided within she shifted her candle about and poked only it and her head into the menagerie itself.

What she was greeted with was the work of either the most fastidious animal or slovenly sentient she could image. The door to the giant rats cage lay open, and inside the cage there now resided only two living giant rats, both of which were huddled against the far walls of their cage clearly having no intention of trying to escape.

Not when between them and freedom lay a bloody furred monster. The creature as larger than any feline Delphi had ever seen, surely larger than the ill-fed leopardess that father had recently added to the menagerie.

That black pelted creature had its fur up and was obviously distressed by this presence of this unwanted visitor, but then every animal in the menagerie seemed to want to put as much distance between themselves and bloody pelted invader as possible.

Delphi didn't blame them in the slightest. She'd heard her father's horror stories of the monstrous Akanga, but could even the viscous lion man could rival the sheer savagery which glittered in this beasts brown eyes?

Brown?

Delphi looked close trying to make sure it was not simply a trick of the light, she'd never seen any sort of feline with eyes that color before. The creature perched itself defensively around the third giant rat, clearly having disposed of it with no more difficulty than a normal sized housecat would have dispatched a normal rat in a similarly enclosed environment.

For the moment the creature was busy eagerly devouring its kill with all possible haste. That gave Delphi time to examine the beast more closely, while it was down on all fours like any other wild animal she could tell that there was something wrong with its paws.

It's back ones looked correct but its front limbs had opposable digits, fur grew around the beast's neck with unnatural thickness, and if there was malicious glee in the things' eyes as it feasted, malice was not a trait to be found among ordinary animals.

There was only one possible explanation, that this was another pour soul that had recently been claimed by the island's bestial curse. Perhaps one of the sailors who James and his friends had been traveling with? She took a deep breath to steady herself and then stepped fully into the doorway trying to make placating gestures with her free hand showing that she had no weapons about her only a simple candle to light her way.

"Please, stay still... don't go anywhere. I'll get father, he can help you..." She whispered in the softest sweetest tone that she could manage.

It still wasn't enough, the beast looked up from its meal and hissed in anger its fur billowing out to make it look larger still and then picking its prey up in its jaw it charged. It moved fast, faster, than Delphi had ever seen anything move on dry land.

She closed her eyes and waited for the inevitable knowing that even her heavy cloak would offer no protection against this beast's claws. But it didn't bury any of its score of razor sharp blades in her body, instead it simply used its weight to disrupt Delphi's (never very good) sense of balance and knock her to ground.

Then it was gone, doubtlessly tearing out of the manner and off into the jungle with its prize still clutched in its jaws.

Delphi responded to this shock as best she could, first she was quick to reestablish her grip on the dropped candle before it could burn the entire estate to the ground. Then she headed into the menagerie and examined the cage that held the rats more closely.

Yes the door was ajar, but while she had originally expected the lock would have been shattered by the beast's raw fury, instead it had been picked as neatly as you could please.

"Such great intelligence crafted for such base purpose." Delphi sniffed in disapproval.

If that creature still held enough wisdom to disarm even a rudimentary lock she expected it would have been able to find more effective ways to feed itself than slaying her father's test subjects.

A shiver ran through Delphi as a new thought struck her. Slaying her father's test subjects!

What if the true goal of that beast had not been feast but slaughter? Akanga hated her father's efforts to cure the disease which plagued this island, and as a lord of cats surely all manner of felines would follow his orders, even ones as naturally twisted as that red furred beast.

Was that what it had been sent here to do? To destroy some of the last true uninfected animals on the island to better stymie her father's hopes for a cure? Doubtlessly it would have been able to dispatch all the other rats had it not been overwhelmed by its own baser instincts or she caught it midway into the act.

Delphi shuddered at the prospect of Akanga being brash enough and possessing a servant capable enough to maneuver up and over the stockade. But that on its own still didn't explain how it could have made its way into the manner itself from the outside every night. Orson was sure to bar all the doors against invaders, she knew because she had to unbar them on her way out.

So how had this creature gotten in? Steeling herself against horror as best she could Delphi began to follow the trail of rat blood (after having been sure to lock the other two back in of course) hoping that she wouldn't be able to catch up to what was leaving it behind.

She was lucky once over that found the source of the creature's entrance into the building and lucky twice over that sure enough it had departed already by the time she did. In the main hall of the manner there was now moonlight beaming in through a hole in the roof, and the answers came all too readily to a mind as bright as Delphi's.

The thatch roof was soft and in theory a defense against attack from above as single misplaced foot could send someone plummeting downwards through it and guaranteeing them a nasty fall.

A nasty fall for a human.

But to a creature that always landed on its feet... such a creature might intentionally plunge itself in through the thatch, and land not the slightest bit discomforted from the experience!

Animal cunning and bestiality married to the sort of conniving intelligence lurking in the worst of men that she had only knew second hand from the stories her father had told of the mainland, this crimson cat was surely the worst of both worlds.

Even though he would be angry with her for disrupting his work Delphi had no choice, she had to go to her father's laboratory and warn him of this terrifying turn of events at once! That was for certain, and Delphi was equally certain that she would not be going swimming, not until Akanga had been dealt with, the jungle suddenly seemed much less welcoming tonight.

XXX XXXX XXX

While Delphi was busy examining the minimal trail that the 'crimson cat' had left behind James Firecat was returning back to the guest house. He'd made sure to unbar to the door on his way out and so he had no trouble slipping back inside.

His wonderful cherished prize still gripped tightly in his jaws he padded up to Mirri's coffin. His handpaws pushed aside the coffin's lid and even in his bestial form he still managed to fold his body in upon himself enough to squeeze inside.

He deposited the half eaten giant rat on Mirri's chest without a hint of hesitation.

"I brought you a gift." James announced proudly as he shifted back to his fully human (give or take a pair of cat ears) form.

Now that he'd made such a glutton of himself eating what he suspected was a touch over four pounds of rodent flesh James' brown eyes were once more open, warm, and inviting. The specter of hunger that had stalked them since he had arrived on the island had been banished and Mirri all too readily wrapped her arms around his throat pulling him in close.

"Yes you did." Mirri responded with delight. Then she leaned in and licked a few drops of blood from his face.

"It's funny, I hate the taste of rodent blood. It's like drinking from the most rancid, filth encrusted, befouled pool you can imagine. Yet when its on your lips..." Mirri could find no words with which to complete that sentence and so she watched in polite silence as James began to unbutton his jacket and bare his neck to her.

End Chapter.

FN: I am sorry if I'm off on how Cal's copying process works, unlike with the distilation my google fu was weak on this mater and I didn't feel confident when it came to trying to simply do a straight up search for something like "how to forge documents".

By the way those who are interested, the painting that Doctor Fran makes of Mirri is more or less in tune with what he should be capable of as described the base adventure book, though I sped up how quickly he made it significantly to keep the story moving along.

Mirri's interest in collecting pictures/paintings of herself is honestly something that I don't think I've ever seen any other vampire in any setting display, but honestly I think it fits perfectly with the general sense of vanity/superiority that most vampires project, she can't see her reflection in a mirror, so she gathers up other people's depictions of her and uses those instead if she wishes to feed her own ego.


	9. Chapter 9

Monster Party Book One: I hunt therefore I am!

Chapter Nine: It's the circle of life!

"Where's Felix?" Alexander asked, as Orson was taxed with cutting the meat during next morning's breakfast.

"Oh I sent him out to hunt for extra supplies." Doctor Fran explained the absence of the most fastidious of his two servants.

(Scene Break)

Felix Unica stalked through the jungle bow and arrow in hand. Once he was certain that he was far enough away from the estate not to be seen he began to disrobe and cast aside the bow, neither fancy clothing nor human weapon would be required for this hunt.

Without his outfit getting in the way it was possible to make out some slight discoloration racing up and down Felix's back though the greater surprise was just how well muscled his body proved to be beneath his loose clothing.

He removed his white gloves revealing hands that end in wicked looking claws and had the same sort of marks as were on his back and dropped to all fours, He stalked through the thick jungle grass nostrils flaring till finally he found what he wanted.

In one swift motion he darted outward and his hand struck with lightning speed slicing through the hindquarters of a shocked rabbit. He let its blood drip out over his bare chest as a symbol of his victory.

(Scene Break)

"Did I say something amusing Mr. Diamondflaw?" Doctor Fran asked as Alexander suddenly had the look of one who was in on a very funny private joke.

"It is nothing, just that as much as I'm sure it upsets your lovely daughter, I sent James out to do the same."

(Scene Break)

The deer saw the creature just in time.

The size, the shape of the body, they all screamed one single word, run.

So it ran, it took off as fast as it could knowing that while it could not move faster than the beast it could outlast it. Now that the hunter knew it had been spotted most likely it would slink off and look for less alert prey.

Most likely was not a sure bet, and the predator took off running after its prey all the same.

The more fool it, how long would it have to lay broken and exhausted panting for breath having wasted its precious energy? All the deer needed to do was keep running, all it needed to do was keep running and wait for its pursuer to run out of energy.

All it needed to do was keep running, so why was it that the longer it ran, the closer it's hunter got? This wasn't correct, since when were cats able to...

Before the deer was able to finish that thought, such as it was capable of having thoughts, it's back right leg was struck by a vicious dewclaw.

Like a wagon that had suddenly lost a wheel the deer careened wildly and collapsed in a heap. A moment later its hunter positioned itself above it, resting a paw on its neck to help pin it in place.

"Funny story, you'll laugh when you here this... felines are ambush predators, they stalk, they pounced, they either catch their prey or it gets away. Humans, on the other hand are persistence predators, they will walk, and walk, and walk, and walk, and walk after their prey till it gets too tired and gives up.

So the reason that you are currently languishing under my paws is that I can achieve feline like sprinting speeds, but maintain them for the length of time that humans can jog. Personally I find that kind of thing so unfair it's funny!" The creature broke into a series of cackles more akin to a hyena than any normal cat.

"What's the matter? If you could laugh about your immanent demise than that would mean you're intelligent and you know what is going on. If you just lay there and stare at me stupidly... well that would mean you're just an animal... and that you're breakfast." The deer kept staring up at the creature blinking in terror.

"Tell you what it doesn't have to be laughter, I'll settle for some creative cursing. Is that more up your alley?" It offered.

Still nothing.

"Guess you're not the conversational type. Well I'm sure you have other virtues... like tastiness..."

(Scene Break)

"Well between the two of them hopefully we shan't want for fresh meat in the near future." Doctor Fran predicted happily.

(Scene Break)

"Nice kill, but mine is bigger." A voice called out to Felix from above just after he finished stabbing the rabbit a few times with an arrow to hide the true nature of its demise.

He looked up, and found it hard to describe what he saw there.

It was clearly feline in nature, it was speaking cat after all. It's body was twisted and not quite right, but that was no great shock to Felix who had seen more than his fair share of broken ones.

No, the greater shock came from its color.

It was bright red, since when did cats come in such an outrageous color?

At the moment it was perched on a tree limb, seemingly having dragged a deer carcass up there with it like a jaguar to dine at its leisure. It certainly seemed to be quite leisurely about its eating, he could spot a few small chunks torn from the dead deer's body, but those were all.

What was this creature doing here, how much had it seen? What was even was it? That bizarre pelt color, now that he stopped to think about it, it reminded him of something, not of the birds, but of the toads and frogs.

Poisoned reptiles whose skin took on bright colors as a warning that they were too deadly to have any need for subterfuge. Finally he managed to find his voice and shout a question up at the creature.

"Are you a broken one?" He demanded. The mysterious feline's brown eyes filled with confusion for just a moment.

"Broken? No... I'm not broken... I am mended." It answered.

Then it sunk its jaws deeply into its fallen prey jumped down from the tree and racing off into the jungle. Felix watched it go then slowly redonned his cloak. He wouldn't bother with hunting more creatures today, his master needed to be informed about what was going on.

(Scene Break)

"Still, there are more important matters than food for us to discuss. You showed great interest in Akanga at lunch yesterday and I've been considering what you've told me along with some quite frankly disturbing news my daughter made me aware of last night.

You might not have noticed the hole my main hall's roof, but it seems one of Akanga's followers was willing to shatter the unsteady peace which had come to exist between us. I don't know why, it could be he grows bold because of some turn events I know nothing of. It is equally likely of course that his broken one spies have reported to him of your arrival and like cornered animal he lashes out in fear that you might upset the balance in my favor.

Either way, steps must be taken and to be perfectly honest your arrival offers a thin glimmer of opportunity to do what would otherwise be impossible.

You may have noticed on my map that there was a monastery to the south of this Estate..." He rumbled sounding tired beyond his years.

"It's a dark and evil placed, infested with monks who worship a vile magical device. It is called, say better miscalled, the Table of Life. Life not as you and I know it of course, for consider which are more numerous, the number of humans or the number of maggots, rats, and other carriers of disease?

After reviewing all the documents I still have to hand, and my somewhat tattered memory, I have come to the hypothesis that this Table could be responsible for the foul state of my adopted island home. If this horrid turn of events is true, then sadly all my efforts up until now have been the ultimate example of treating the symptoms rather than the disease.

I fear only when the Table itself is sundered will there be only hope for curing the plague and freeing the broken ones from Akanga's grip.

I have talked with some of the broken ones who travel near the monastery in the past, but they do not travel very near it. From what they have told me, it is as though a palpable force drives them away should they every seek to approach.

Like the eye in a hurricane the monastery may be enchanted by magic to keep all who have been transformed by the mystical plague from entering it though this is naught but conjecture on my part.

What I am sure of is that the Table will not be easy to destroy. It could be that only the monks themselves know the secret of its undoing, but we must try none the less. If you could bring it back to my laboratory I would study it with every hour of the day and night to try and put an end to its evil once and for all.

Sadly much as it gals me to say this, if you choose to undertake this task, neither I, nor my servants could accompany you." He declared solemnly.

"I could..." Delphi began but her father quickly cut her off.

"You could do naught but risk your life for little in the way of gain my precious daughter. The dark monastery which contains the Table of Life is no place for one such as you, and what true aid could you offer our guests?

They are men and women of some resource when it comes to adventure and you know of battles and war only through my books. I have raised you with enough wisdom to realize the truth when it is right before your eyes, your place is here where there is at least some measure of safety.

You all must understand, though it would be wondrous to break this curse, plans must be made for the dark days that lay ahead if it can not be. If am mistaken, if the Table of Life is unrelated to this plague, if its mystical protection and unholy minions can not be overcome, this estate must be further fortified with all possible haste.

To that task we will apply ourselves Delphi. Come what may, my laboratory must remain secure, for what good will the Table of Life do us if we have no place to study it?" He admonished his ward before returning his attention to his guests.

"There is no great reward I can offer you should you succeed, no treasures of gold, or items of mystical energy, all that I have, I have already shared with you. I have opened my home to you, fed you, and protected you as best I can. Will you now help me to help all the poor people of this island?" He beseeched them.

Alexander rose from his chair and walked to his host's side.

"Doctor, if it is true that the Table of Life is root cause of the plague which infects this island, you can be certain that my blade stands ready for surgery." Alexander promised.

Doctor Fran's already wide eyed expression somehow grew wider still as if he could not believe what he was hearing. Then slowly a slight chuckle from his throat grew into a great booming laugh.

"Ah yes... what a charmingly medical and yet also martial turn of phrase! Thank you for assisting me in my hour of greatest need, you truly have the heart of a Paladin." Doctor Fran praised.

Alexander repaid his charity with a wry grin. "That's kind of you to say, kinder still if you don't try to figure out what other parts went into making me." He informed the Francis Vaster

(Scene Break)

"Boss a question if I might..." Cal Wright raised his voice as the six adventurers left Doctor Fran's estate well behind them.

"The Doctor said it'd be something like half a day's journey to the monastery, so we've got plenty of time for questions, ask away." Alexander answered.

"All of us, especially one of us in particular know what created that hole in Doctor Fran's roof." Cal pointed out, his eyes none to subtly glancing in James Firecat's direction.

"Correct." Alexander confirmed.

"We know why something that looked like neither man nor beast broke into the Doctor's menagerie and made off with one of his giant rats."

"Right again." Alexander agreed.

"We know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it wasn't a broken one and it doesn't serve Akanga." Cal continued.

"A valid observation." Alexander admitted.

"So everything that Doctor Fran told us this morning about how Akanga might be getting ready to try and overrun the estate was a wrong headed, a** backwards conclusion drawn form incorrect information." Cal concluded.

"You're four for four." The silver haired man pointed out with a small touch of pride.

"So given all that... why are we still going after this Table of Life thing that the Doctor felt was so important if the reasons he wanted it so desperately in the first place are completely incorrect?" Cal demanded.

Alexander sighed heavily.

"The reason we're going after it is that I'm smart enough to know that I'm not the only smart person in the world and Doctor Fran has had access to long destroyed manuscripts from the previous occupants of this island that none of us will ever get a chance to read.

He knows more about this place than any of us do, possibly more than any of us ever could know.

He might think it is only an urgent mater because of James' nocturnal romps, but his reasons for thinking it is an important one, that it could help end the plague... I have no reason to believe right out of the gate that he is incorrect on that matter.

Besides, I place more faith in the ability of mystic trinkets to thwart Darklords than creative use of props, no mater how clever the base idea was. Given that I have no reason to consider time truly of the essence, if the Table of Life really does turn out to be of no use, well we're still not that much worse of.

If we try my plan first and it fails, then it will doubtlessly be seen as a direct assault on Akanga himself and just as doubtlessly lead to the very escalation Doctor Fran was so worried about this morning.

No, if open warfare is going to break out, we'll let Akanga make the first move. Besides, if my original plan was going to have much chance of success we'd need probably convince the broken ones that James was more than just another of them from lion stock. He'd have a veritably divine figure who walked among them in feline flesh, that plan's sole virtue its raw audacity!" Alexander pointed out.

As he spoke James' left hand dove into one of the many pockets of his outfit and from it removed a small statue of black stone. It was cut into the image of a cat seated sitting erect upon all four of its paws.

He stroked it for reassurance as he considered Alexander's words.

"Yeah, and honestly I don't think Bastet looks kindly on that sort of thing. I'm not completely sure because she's pretty laid back as far as goddesses go, and I don't see any priestess of her around to ask for confirmation on the mater. Still, it's usually a good bet that like most gods she doesn't like it when mortals pretend to be divine, even if it's for a very good reason." He pondered as he continued to caress the statue as of hoping that it would voice its thoughts on the matter.

At least he did until a sibilant hiss rang in his ears.

"Oh yeah, whoops, sorry about that Mirri." James returned the cat statue to whichever pocket it had come from, heedful of how much the sight of his goddess' holy symbol upset the vampiress.

"Try to be more careful, you could give a girl a bad case of stigmata with that thing." Mirri reminded him.

(Scene Break)

They eventually made their way to the monastery in question, or at least its general area.

"You know, Doctor Fran drew a lot of jagged lines on his map, but it still doesn't convey just how bad it is..." Cal muttered in irritation as his gaze shifted between his copied map and the monastery itself.

The monastery simply put sat atop a "small" (at least as such things were judged geographically speaking) mountain. It loomed over them at a height such that only the more keened eyed members of the party were able to see that there actually was a building up there for them to possibly reach.

Mirri held out her hands taking measurements and estimating figures.

"Well, between Devi's magic chain, and her almost fetishistic interest in rope, maybe toss in some vines Florence has worked with, we might have enough material for me to tie a line for the predeceased members of the group to climb up after me.

The risk of course being that you'll have to actually do the climbing I won't be able to catch any of you who fall." She pointed out.

There was a slight pause in the conversation as everyone present (well everyone except James) cast a sidelong glance in Cal's direction.

"Oh so you think I don't have what it takes to climb straight up the side of a mountain, all several hundred feet of it in one go? Well shows you what you know because I'm too smart to try!" He boasted rather questionably.

"Okay one single climb is out of the question. We'd either need to build a couple dozen safe points on the way up or find another path that can lead us to the top of the mountain. With any luck somewhere around here will be a small trail we can use. After all, it's not like the monks themselves flew to the top of the cliff to begin with." Alexander reminded the group.

They were not given long to examine their surroundings before they ended up being distracted once more.

"GONNNNGGGGGGG!" James Firecat had noticed a great hollow bronze tube some teen feet tall that was partially buried in the ground, canted slightly at the base of the mountain.

The tube bore a raised impression of a figure in robes with a high collar carrying a box. The face of the figure itself however had been worn away. A large iron bar had been left carefully propped up against the tube, so the werecat had picked it up and promptly dealt the tube a great blow.

"Did you really need to do that?" Alexander asked hands gripped tightly to ears that had yet to stop ringing.

James dropped the iron bar and it clattered to the ground.

"Sorry Alex, I just figured it couldn't hurt. Besides, it was laying there like it wanted to be used." He protested.

"It hurt my ears that's for sure." Mirri muttered in anger. James thoroughly abashed straight away rushed to the vampire's side to offer her what comfort he could.

Even as the ringing of the strange metal tube he had struck wore away, movement began overhead. Slowly but surely a large basket was lowered down from above.

"Huh... awfully considerate off them for crazed religious types." Cal reflected as it looked like the task of reaching the monastery had just been greatly simplified.

End Chapter.

Chapter Nine Notes: Just to clear up maters, when Mirri talks about stigmata she does not mean the human condition where blood leaks spontaneously from the palms. She is instead referring to the vampire condition of the same name (don't blame me that's what it's called in the Van Richten's Guide to Vampires!) where physical contact with a holy symbol leaves marks upon a vampire's flesh in the shape of said holy symbol that can last for months/years despite vampire's normal regenerative abilities and their bodies tendency to revert back to whatever state it was in at the moment of death (IE a vampire who had tattoos while they were alive will keep them but if they try to get new ones after they die they'll fade away pretty quickly). Given that it seems to only require physical contact with a holy symbol not having said symbol be wielded by a priest/priestess she is entirely reasonable to consider it a possible result of James being absentminded with his icon of Bastet.

Once again apologies to any Bastet worshipers out there in the extremely unlikely event that there are any reading this story and took offense to it. For those unfamiliar, with her, Bastet/Bast/a few other different spellings is a real world goddess from the Egyptian Pantheon who also shows up in Ravenloft every so often, though they often do that "no it looks like Godzilla but due to international copyright laws, it isn't!" thing every so often where they'll change the spelling of her name but not what she represents.

To pick an example at random in the Gazetteer V (five) section on Nova Vaasa they they talk about the cat god Bubahkaa, but they're fooling nobody because they also mention another cat goddess named Sehkmaa as well.

For those who aren't aware of such things (which is probably most of you) there are two main cat goddesses in the Egyptian Pantheon, Bastet who is often depicted as a woman with the head of a housecat, and Sekhmet (spelling fluctuates as with Bastet of course) who is often depicted as a woman with the head of a lioness. If you couldn't figure out how their personalities break down from the above, Bastet tends towards representing the more soft and fluffy kittenish side of felinity (though she'll still totally lay the smack-down on any rats, snakes, or other pests which threaten her domain) and Sekhmet is more the "oh god the claws are ripping my face off!" side. (Bastet is Chaotic Good, Sekhmet is Chaotic Neutral)

Another example of this can be found with the Paka (weird shape-shifters that can go between looking like people and looking like people with some decidedly feline traits) who based on some of the information I can find online have a two faced goddess named Syekhmaa-Ubahsty, that's Seykhmaa who has a lioness head and does war power and destruction and Ubahsty who has the head of a housecat and is associated with protection and cunning. In the interest streamlining such maters, I'm rolling all such pairs of feline goddesses/twin aspected single feline goddesses into being Bastet or Sekhmet as appropriate.

For the most part Bastet's preachings in a D&D setting tend to break down to "treat cats with the reverence they deserve, have fun, fight evil, be excellent to each other and don't be that guy who bogarts the catnip, nobody likes that guy." I am of course exaggerating a bit for effect but honestly not that much.

As mentioned previously Mirri doesn't get along well with holy symbols of good deities even if the owner has no intention of harming her (or quite the opposite intention) which is why James carries his symbol of Bastet it in a pocket rather than more prominently displaying it.

So yeah, James being a follower of Bastet, honestly it fits so well that if you knew about her existence in the Ravenloft setting ahead of time you probably could have already pegged James as one of her followers.


	10. Chapter 10

Monster Party Book 1: I hunt therefore I am!

Chapter Ten: First you get down on your knees, fiddle with your rosaries...

The six adventurers got into the basket with varying degrees of exuberance. Once they were all in, James reached out and gave the ropes a slight tug. The ropes tightened, bu the basket remained firmly planted on the ground.

"Guess we weigh too much for them to lift all of us at once. I'll step out and let you guys go up without me, and if they decide to drop you all halfway up I promise I'll scrape whatever is left off you off the ground and give you a proper funeral!" The alchemist offered.

He got one leg over the side of the basket before Alexander's right hand closed on his shoulder like a vice.

"We'll all go up together. Mirri, James see if you can't lighten our load somewhat." The two nodded, and Mirri promptly transformed into a swirl of mist while James shrunk down to his cat form.

Alexander gave the ropes another tug and with the basket's weight decreased by something close to a third it now began to rise upwards. Slowly but surely the basket made the journey all the way up the side of the mountain.

The only hiccup came when they were about 90% of the way to the top when it suddenly stopped moving. The basket swayed back and forth in the stiff winds and Cal clung to it till his fingers turned white expecting at any moment to feel his stomach (among other things) drop out form beneath him.

Despite the alchemist's worries eventually the basket began to continue its ascension and completed the journey without further issue.

The group found themselves pulled up into a simple room that had a carefully constructed wooden balcony/gate around the hole in the floor the basket had entered through. Cal was all too happy to get solid ground underfoot once more, though there was no sign of who had been responsible for raising them up in the first place.

Mirri reformed herself, and James returned to human aspect as the others carefully got out of the basket, all weary of the possible drop below. Once there was no more to be gained from further preparation Alexander carefully eased open the one door in their corridor. On the other side he found an abandoned winch which had clearly been recently in use.

"Huh, guess they're the shy type." Cal reflected still amazed that he had managed that particular trip in one piece.

Devi however was drawn to the collection of barrels stacked in the corner, she pulled the lid off one and found a great many salted fish in surprisingly good shape.

"Well, whoever runs this place they seem to be a great deal more considerate than Doctor Fran lead me to believe." She reflected.

The greatest discovery of all however was made by Mirri as she attempted to head further inwards to the monastery.

One moment she was heading forward with her normal confident stride, the next it was as if she'd walked right into an invisible stone wall.

"Huh... faith barrier." She muttered poking away at the seemingly empty air which none the less supported her weight quite firmly no matter how much pressure she put on it.

"Whoever runs this place, they must at the very least mean well, or else I'd be able to walk right in and feel at home. As is... well have fun storming the monastery!" Mirri offered before seating herself atop the winch as the rest of the building was clearly too holy for her to enter without an invitation.

James looked like he was tempted to stick with her but a twitch of Alexander's wrist signaling for him to follow and his own innate curiosity won out in the end. As the five living members of the group proceeded deeper into the monastery they found still more signs of its recent occupation.

As they passed into library there were three books left laying on tables opened to some seemingly random page. Even more "damming" was a piece of parchment set down with an ink pot next to it. Someone seemed to have either been composing (or recording) a hymn, but either way one conclusion was obvious.

"Ink is still wet on the parchment." Cal reflected, his skill at picking out all things chemical rising to the forefront.

"Looks like we had better tread carefully. They seem to be giving us the benefit of the doubt, lets try not to abuse it." The dryad pointed out.

"Well before we can possibly have any meaningful interactions we need to find them." Cal reminded her.

Then he causally picked up the bottle of ink, and dumped it atop the parchment, making sure to do it in exaggerated manner that would cause the sound to carry as loudly as possible.

"Was that really necessary?" Florence demanded, clearly irritated with the blond haired man's flippant actions.

"Hey, it's not like I tried to burn the entire place down..." Cal shrugged.

A moment later they heard a shock gasping sound from above.

A figure in a heavy blue robe who had been watching them from some hidden alcove on the library's second floor and was obviously quite distressed by Cal's actions. The person in question had their robe's hood pulled up over its head making it hard to see much of the wearer's face. All that it was possible to make out were cracked and discolored lips.

"Glad to see we're not really alone, now how about we move onto some polite conversation next?" Cal suggested still showing no regret for his prior actions.

In response the monk raised two fingers to his lips, backs of the digits outward.

"Vow of silence?" Alexander inquired, taking a not so wild guess as to what that particular gesture meant.

The hooded figure nodded eagerly.

"Is there anyone here in this place who hasn't taken one?" Alexander further inquired.

Still more nodding.

"Would it be a terrible imposition for you to lead us to them?" He pointed out while stamping a booted foot to show his impatience.

The monk descended down the spiral staircase and then motioned for Alexander and the others to follow. The five followed, as they were one and all aware that directly disobeying even nonverbal commands from mystical monks for no particular reason was not the kind of thing that ended well for people in their profession.

Their guide lead them out of the smaller building and out around the side of the monastery before taking them into another building. This one seemed to be some kind of large dinning facility. As they passed through the door someone called out to them.

"Hello to the honored guests!" Said a hearty bass voice, shattering the silence of the monastery.

The group turned in its direction and saw a priest walking towards them as fast as his plump figure and billowing robes would allow. Unlike his fellows he wore his hood down revealing his gray hair and the warm eyes.

"I'm terribly sorry about your somewhat less than conventional welcome, but as you might guess we don't get many visitors." The monk pointed out.

"Can't imagine why." Cal deadpanned.

The monk who like so many of his kind was blessed with a seemingly endless capacity to endure sarcasm and just kept right on going.

"My name is Father Milhouse. I'm in charge of this monastery. I welcome you to our chapter of the Order Of the Guardians." He intoned warmly.

Alexander's left eye bulged out slightly as the silver haired man was clearly taken by surprise for a moment. Then he recovered as things fell into place in his mind.

"The Order of the Guardians... well that explains why we've been told that you worshiped an evil artifact." James hesitantly raised a hand in confusion.

"Um Alex, if you know what's going on, could you fill the rest of us in?" The werecat suggested.

Alexander sighed heavily for a moment and then looking around was momentarily reminded that there were only five adventurers present.

"Father, before I explain, as best as I can, there's one minor matter that we need to attend to. We have another companion. She being a lady of deep convictions had no desire to intrude upon your home without a direct invitation and thus possibly commit some slight against your order. From your warm greeting would I be correct to assume that all who come peacefully are welcome within these walls?" Alexander asked, clearly feeling no reluctance to mislead on the subject why Mirri needed an invitation.

Father Milhouse nodded and gestured at the other monk who they had followed here.

"You are indeed correct. Brother Sime, it seems we might have another guest waiting for us by the lift. Please show her in while I discuss matters with those who have already arrived. " He commanded.

The hooded monk bowed his head and departed without further ado.

"Now then father, since my younger friend is sadly not as well versed in the nature of some religious orders as I happen to be, I'll fill him in, and you can correct me if I am mistaken in any matters." Alexander offered.

Father Milhouse nodded briefly, while he was under no vow of silence he clearly had some experience holding his tongue all the same.

"James, the Order of the Guardians are one of the few religious groups I have much in the way of affection for. That's because they make it their job to make our job easier. Whenever some evil villain goes and invents or discover some sort mystical doodad that needs to be inserted into flange 47 of their doomsday device, the Order of the Guardians does what they can to get their hands on the thing and keep it locked away for as long as possible.

Sadly, the fact that they tend to spend their lives clustered around evil artifacts can lead to people getting the wrong idea." Alexander explained.

"That is rather the gist of it." Father Milhouse admitted nodding along with his guest's words.

"So do you actually have the Table of Life?" Devi inquired rather briskly.

Father Milhouse winced slightly.

"Yes, it has been my sacred duty to guard that object ever since I and some of my brave companions were able to retrieve it from some thieves who thankfully did not realize just what a horror they had laid their hands upon. I lay awake some nights worrying about what might have happened if someone less stalwart who was aware of its true nature came upon it first." The monk said gravely.

"So do you know what the Table of Life actually does?" Devi wanted to know, given than Doctor Fran had been rather sparse on the details of that nature to say the least.

Father Milhouse hung his head for a moment but then it came up and he remained as open as ever.

"The Table of Life, honestly none of us are truly sure of all the powers it posses. Asides from its own apparent indestructibility it also seems to grant anyone who sits or is otherwise secured to it immortality." As he spoke the monk's eyes shifted back and forth slightly as if unsure of who else might be listening.

"Well that doesn't sound so bad. What makes a hunk of rock that keeps people alive so bad?" James pondered in confusion.

"It grants immortality, and nothing else, and only as long as one sits upon it. We had heard stories, and we preformed only a few paltry experiments using a captured bird.

Those, those were more than enough.

They are immortal, but in no way protected from either harm or pain. If I had known just how powerful it was... there are times that the sight of that poor dismembered beast, it's heart still beating after it had been pulled form its chest keeps me awake at night.

We had to know just what we were dealing with though. That is why the Table of Life must remain here until we discover a way to destroy it." He ruminated his face growing darker as he discussed just what sort of mystical powers they item they had been sent to retrieve possessed.

"Does it have any power to cause diseases?" Alexander demanded, hoping that he hadn't been sent on a wild goose chase after an admittedly still evil artifact, but one that might have nothing to do with shape altering plague which still haunted the island.

"Now that you mention it, in recent years, there have been some prevalent cases of skinrot and a few other diseases of a similar nature that I can not find the name for infecting my companions. It seems that I am the only one who had been spared that particular brand of suffering, either by the strength of my faith or the perverse designs of the Mists. That is the reason why I am the only one who cares to wear my hood down you see." Given what little they had been able to make of the other monks appearances had been far from pleasant it was not hard in the least to believe him.

Still, this particular knowledge brought a dark joy to Alexander's heart, reassuring him that the Table of Life might yet lay at the heart of this island's suffering.

"Well then given that you apparently built this entire place just to keep it contained I don't suppose you'd be willing to lend it to use for a week or so?" Cal asked half seriously.

"No." Father Milhouse sounded like it would be impossible for him to be any more definitive on that particular point.

Before he could go any further more blue robed figures began to stream into the room, and he waved for Alexander and the others to join him at the table.

"Come, let us share lunch together and talk of less morbid matters. Meals are one of the rare times my brothers and sisters are not bound by their vow of silence." He offered.

The adventurers accepted quickly exchanging names in the process and soon enough the monks had set out plates, utensils and cups before them.

Plates, utensils, cups, and nothing more.

If Father Milhouse or any of his followers found this unnatural they showed no sign of it, instead preferring to make scant amounts of small talk amongst themselves in voices that were clearly dry and dusty from rarely being used.

After this bizarre interplay had gone on for about two minutes Cal wasn't going to take any more of it.

"So by any chance is the Order of the Guardian and offshoot of the teachings of Zhakata the Devourer?" He asked in a voice loud enough to be heard all across the room.

Utter silence was left in the wake of his pronouncement until father Milhouse could bring himself to speak.

"What could bring you to say such blasphemous things?" He demanded.

Cal drummed the fingers of his right hand against his empty plate, and his left dealt his glass a slight slap making it teeter back and forth displaying how there was no liquid in it to slosh about.

"Just that otherwise it doesn't much sense to invite us to a meal, and then forget to provide the actual food and drink." The alchemist responded.

Father Milhouse's ruddy features paled.

"The food and drink! Of course, how silly of me! Brother Pavlov please go to the basement for some wine, Sister Beryl please go to the lift house and bring some fish back with you!" Just as the two monks were leaving for these particular tasks Mirri arrived.

(Scene Break)

Mirri slowly and tenderly inched her way into the dinning hall clearly feeling ill at ease about her surroundings. She looked this way and that as if expecting some invisible undetectable force of raw goodness to strike her at any moment.

As none arrived she began to approach James even going so far as to give a feminine curtsey to the monk who was currently seated to his right.

"If I may?" She requested.

The monk mumbled something respectful and arose from his seat allowing the vampire to plant herself next to her companion of choice.

That done she turned to their leader.

"I appreciate you allowing me into your sanctuary father. I must admit that I am surprised you have managed to keep it sanctified so long after your own death."

"WHAT?" Father Milhouse blustered arising from his chair, his already ruddy cheeks now redder still.

Mirri's eyebrows shot up in in surprise.

"What? It was a compliment, many of the ancient dead are seen as abominations in the eyes of the deities they once worshiped and their divine powers become warped and twisted., but that hasn't happened here." She clarified.

Father Milhouse stormed over to Mirri.

"I object not to your compliments on the purity of I an my fellows' faith but what your morbid and uncalled for comments concerning our supposed deaths!" He blustered.

Mirri blinked a few times as she looked the holy man up and down.

"Look I have nothing against ancient dead, or as most peasants huddling by the fireside call them, 'mummies' a term which clearly is not applicable in this situation given the lack linen bindings and what not. That said, it's not mentally healthy to unlive in denial." She insisted as if unable to believe that it was even necessary to have this particular conversation.

"The unhallowed land which surrounds our temple may have brought several unpleasant maladies upon my brothers and sisters of the order but we have remained strong of faith and have not perished." Father Milhouse insisted.

Mirri stood up bringing herself to eye level with the holy man.

"Now look, I've had just about enough of this foolishness. Your souls are no longer part of your being! They have ceased to be connected! You have expired, magic is all that keeps you from going stiff! You are bereft of life, ready to rest in peace. If you were not on atop a barren mountain you would be pushing up the daises! Your metabolic process are now history, you've kicked the bucket, shuffled off your mortal coils. You are dead, demised, become true experts on the afterlife, YOU ARE AN EX-MONK!" Mirri shouted back, refusing to be cowed by Father Milhouse.

Father Milhouse had other ways of bringing this particular argument to an abrupt close however.

"OUT!" He demanded thrusting a finger at Mirri.

"DEPART AT ONCE FROM THIS HOLY PLACE!" He demanded.

A moment later he got his wish, it was as if some unseen hand had suddenly grasped Mirri about the back of the collar and tossed her from the room her body propelled to a nearly ludicrous speed as it whizzed through the air.

The silence that fell upon the dinning table in the wake of that disturbance was far greater than that which had accompanied the monk's simply filing into the room. It was only broken when Cal Wright slowly reached into one of his pockets and pulled forth a finely crafted time peace.

"Father if I might ask for a pearl of your wisdom in regards to the healing arts?" Cal requested.

Father Milhouse still seemed angry, but the alchemist' comments had done at least a little to move the topic back onto safer grounds.

He willing walked around the table to Cal's side.

"Yes?" He intoned in a somewhat strained voice.

"I have concerns as to the rapidity of my heart's movements. Using this time piece could you count how many times it strikes in a minute?" He inquired in the most polite tone of voice anyone had heard Cal use in a very long time.

"Certainly." Father Milhouse placed his hands against Cal's arm and watched the hands of the time piece tick their way completely around its face.

"Something close to a seventy I believe." Cal nodded and then pushed the time piece slightly so that it would be even closer to the holy man.

"I believe that's more or less to natural, but to have us be certain would you mind comparing it to your own?" He inquired.

Father Milhouse nodded rolled back his sleeve, placing a perfectly healthy looking hand against his completely normal looking arm. Then he waited listening intently for the movements of his own heart.  
>He waited and the only sound which filled his ears was the ticking of the alchemist's timepiece. There was not the slightest bit of movement or sound coming from within his body.<p>

The red flush of anger drained from his face and was replaced with growing pallor.

"Either... either your time piece has malfunctioned, or am I deceased." He eventually declared.

Consternation filled the dinning hall as voice seldom rarely used struggled to rise to the tone of proper outrage and horror.

Sensing the need to regain control of the situation Father Milhouse scooped up the time peace and slid it across the table to one of his followers.

"Sister Gamaliel, you may confirm my findings if you please." The female monk nodded, and using the time peace tried to take the measure of her own heartbeat.

She might as well have tried to measure the length of her shadow while standing directly beneath the noonday sun.

"Nothing." She gasped her voice sounding hoarse and weak.

"I think you may owe one of my companions an apology." Alexander offered in as tactful a tone as he could manage.

"I think I might owe her a great deal more than that..." Father Milhouse admitted.

"For the moment the most important thing we can do is get to the bottom of this..." The silver haired man reflected as he stood up.

Then Alexander slowly pulled back the hood Brother Sime wore.

Without the blue fabric to get in the way it was possible to get a good look at him, his face was cadaverous and gray but still whole and not yet given over to the riggers of decomposition. He looked as if he could have passed for a living human only among those who were feeling generous.

"Your arms." Father Milhouse commanded.

The monk pulled back the sleeve, and it was possible to see that his arms were host to several unpleasant looking pustules whose contents did not bear ruminating upon.

"That will be enough." Father Milhouse concluded with a tired shake of his head.

"So you really didn't notice that you had died up until now?" Devi asked with only marginally more tact than Mirri had shown.

"No, I didn't have a reason to." The leader of the group declared once again pulling back his own sleeve, to display how his features did not even bear Mirri's traditional pale skin tone to visually denote his status as undead.

"When was the last time you dreamed?" James pipped up.

There was a resounding silence around the room.

"Undead don't dream." The werecat declared with some a great deal of (most likely well warranted) certainty.

"The entire not needing to eat thing, that's sort of a clue also." Cal added a touch contemptuously.

"Not that I'm trying to rub your face in it, but people who are still alive tend to need to do that." He muttered given that the monk Father Milhouse he had dispatched to gather fish had still not returned.

"I assumed it might be some offshoot of the Table of Life, and the worse truth is I was probably right. I failed to realize just how pervasive it's presence has become." Father Milhouse reflected dourly.

"We shall be patient and give our still living guests a chance to eat, but after that, after that Alexander Diamondclaw I fear that you see the Table of Life for yourself. Normally it would be impossible for me to allow it to be removed from this monastery, but its destruction must take precedence above all else." The undead monk declared. Unsurprisingly none of his followers spoke out against him.

(Scene Break)

The fish was still surprisingly fresh, the wine well aged (if vinegary) and all said the meal could have been worse.

Once it had been completed Father Milhouse began to lead to lead the five adventurers (Mirri steadfastly refused to leave the marginally less sanctified lift house and give Father Milhouse another chance to divinely eject her all over again.

That number soon fell down to four as underneath his hat James Firecat's ears twitched.

Deep in the barley lit catacombs beneath the monastery all manner of vermin bread. He had already feasted upon deer earlier than day, but for James catching rats was frequently less about feeding and more a personal crusade.

He fell further and further behind the others till he finally dropping to all fours and racing off in his housecat form.

Father Milhouse's remaining guests were eventually lead to a heavily barred and locked room. He lifted the bars, and openings the lock with a series of keys buried deep within his robes. Then he slowly stepped into a small grotto lit by an unearthly glow.

In the middle of it was a large slab of greenish-black marble shot through with thin veins of gold, it was eight feet across and six inches thick. The surface was smooth and polished to perfection. The Table of Life hovered few inches or so off the ground and was surrounded by a strange radiant mist.

"Here is what we have guarded for so long. If you can destroy it be my guest." Father Milhouse offered.

Alexander slowly approached the mystical object and his blade won its way free from its sheath.

"This thing is obviously a powerful artifact, but there aren't that many things in the world that can stand up to a good solid blow from me and Wolf Claw." The silver haired man promised.

His blade descended.

WHAM!

Alexander's sword struck the Table of Life a mighty blow. His entire body rocked backwards and he lost his grip on the blade which flew his hands and slammed into a wall of the chamber sticking into it and vibrating slightly.

"There aren't many things... but there are a few." He admitted ruefully before turning about to go retrieve his weapon of choice.

(Scene Break)

James' nose drew in a deep breath and his tail quivered, there were was a rat, make that rats down here he was sure of it.

Not only that, but there weren't any other cats, and honestly that was pretty silly! Did these monks want to spend all their free time hunting rats?

As far as James was concerned no temple or monastery was ever complete without a cat, but on the other hand given his beliefs in Bastet he was willing to admit that he was just a bit biased on that front.

As he padded silently through the darkness he came upon another member of the Order of the Guardians. "Hey don't mind me, I'm just here to hunt rats!" James cried out happily.

Granted given that he was in his fully feline form the words were rendered as nothing more than a traditional collection of feline meows but keeping his tongue still had never been James' strongest suit.  
>The monk turned and looked at him. James couldn't see much but his eyes were so keen that what he did was more than enough.<p>

He turned and ran as fast as he could, rats were the least of his problems now!

End Chapter

FN: This chapter reveals (at least if I wrote it right) one interesting piece of information about our "heroes"... while Mirri is probably the most evil... Cal is a much bigger d**k.

To put it in TV tropes terms (I won't link don't worry, you only have yourselves to blame if you loose several hours of your life)

Mirri is a Sociopathic Hero who was probably not the nicest person when she was alive and being turning into a vampire (plus a all the time she spent unliving as one) unsurprisingly shrunk her monkey sphere (the group of people she thinks about as people rather than as abstractions) even further. Cal on the other hand is just an unashamed Jerkass (granted one with a Heart of Gold).

Once again enjoy the cliff hanger till next week/whenever the next chapter is ready


	11. Chapter 11

Monster Party Book 1: I hunt there for I am!

Chapter Elven: There's a devil in the church, got a bullet in the chamber, and this is gonna hurt!

"Alex we have problems!" James Firecat called out as he came practically skidding into the room, just barely having the presence of mind to revert to human form before reentering Father Milhouse's sight.

"I know James, the Table of Life is proving every bit as hard to destroy as Doctor Fran predicted." His commander admitted.

"No we've got a lot bigger problems than that! You know how Father Milhouse's friends at dinner looked a little undead? Well I just ran into some of them who looked a lot undead!" He warned the group.

Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth it was possible to hear the sound of moaning and approaching footsteps. A handful of figures dressed in blue robes struggled forward toward the Table of Life.

As the somewhat scarce light fell upon them, even with their hoods up it was possible to see that these monks no longer had faces, only glistening skulls with a few strips of ragged skin stretched across them.

"Why don't they look happy to see us?" Cal demanded bitterly as he brought up Phoenix wondering if it was better to risk Father Milhouse's wrath by firing, or those of his 'followers' by letting them getting closer.

Father Milhouse for his part seemed equally torn as he gazed upon his fellow monks.

"I can't even... I can't even tell who you used to be." He admitted, as the monks had clearly decayed to the point that it was impossible for a man who must have spent year after year alongside them to recognize them in their current state.

"Why didn't you warn us that there were members of your order that you hadn't seen in a while?" Devi demanded bitterly as she began to flex her fingers.

"Well some of them stopped showing up at meals, by then none of us needed to eat, so I simply assumed that they decided to seek the solitude of their cells or prayer..." The undead monk sighed.

"Do we have your permission, to defend ourselves?" Florence requested in a shockingly polite tone of voice for their situation.

Before their guide could answer, three of the skinless monks charged him and he was buried under a tide of blue cloaks.

The adventurers were momentarily stunned by the sudden burst of speed the decayed monks had proved capable of and were in no position to offer him assistance.

"I won't let it end this way!" One moment the portly monk had been pinned in place by some of his mindless followers, the next he was rising to his feet tossing them aside.

"Well damn, who knew he had it in him..." Cal admitted in shock.

"The Table of Life... it's warped their minds!" Father Milhouse cried out as the other two still standing monks began to try to tear him limb for limb.

There was almost delicate swishing sound, and then a severed arm flew through the air. Alexander was now at the holy man's side Wolf Claw gripped tightly in his hands.

"Cal, Devi grab the Table of Life! We need to fight a tactical retreat back to the surface!" He commanded as he managed to separate one mummified monk's head from his body.

That particular monk ceased to move, but unfortunately the trio who had been tossed aside were starting to regain their footing, and he could see more of them approaching.

"Why do I always have to carry this shit I'm not even that strong..." Cal muttered in anger as he wrapped his arms around the mystical artifact.

"Would you like a turn on the front lines instead?" Alexander offered as James and Florence joined him.

"Boss raises a good point Devi, remember lift with your legs not with your back!" Cal reflected as he seized the Table of Life.

Meanwhile James drew forth a dagger with either hand, and Florence held out her hands only to have a firm branch of quarterstaff like proportions rise up out of the rocky floor for her to arm herself with.

"I wish I knew exactly what the Table had done to them..." Father Milhouse muttered to himself as he studied the transformed faces of his former friends.

"Mummies tend to want to keep doing the same thing they did in life, they just forget the bigger picture. I think they want to protect the Table of Life... and don't remember that they should be trying to protect other people from it instead. So when I tried to cut it apart..." Alexander let his explanation trail off when he felt further words were unnecessary.

"By the way father Milhouse if you can still do that repelling undead thing priests are so famous for, now might be a real good time for it." Devi advised.

Father Milhouse reached into his robes and pulled forth an emblem of a figure clad in a blue robe with his hands clasped tightly around a small box.

"Brothers, sisters, remember your true calling!" He demanded an as he raised the symbol high.

The growing crowd of mindless undead monks went still, for the moment.

"Wow, can't believe it actually worked..." Devi muttered as she and Cal brought the relic to the somewhat more intact (if still deceased) monk's side.

Father Milhouse took a step forward, the horde of undead gathered around them took a step back.

"I can keep them at bay.. for now..." He groaned through gritted teeth.

The look of intense concentration on his face suggested that if he was still alive sweat would have been dripping down his face. Slowly but surely with an ever growing gathering of undead pressing close (but not too close) the group edged their way back towards the surface.

"I think... I think in retrospect... considering the circumstances... it might be better... if you took the Table of Life." Father Milhouse admitted as he gazed out at a see of faces whose eyes had long ago turn to dust.

"We'll be happy to relieve you of it, assuming we mange to survive this..." Alexander offered, clearly expecting the monks to resume their attack at any moment.

The group managed to just barely get back above ground before his arms began to slump and the holy symbol start to lower. Seconds before the undead mob that was following them could rush forward Alexander swung the heavy wooden double door shut in their faces.

"Florence!" He commanded.

The dryad placed her hands against the door, it began to warp and twist, altering itself so that it sat poorly in its frame, changed into a shape that would make it impossible to open. Then she let loose with another quick blessing to strengthen the wood and have it stand firm as long as it could.

"That will hold them for a bit, but even an ironwood door won't last long against that many undead, especially if..." As she explained there were a few resounding WHUMPS as the mindless monks beat on the door, but the door was only so wide and the ones who couldn't reach it still wanted a turn.

WHAM WHAM!

The others began to pound away way on the masonry which being made of carved stone Florence could not magically reinforce.

"Less talking more running?" Cal suggested eagerly.

"Less talking more running." Alexander agreed.

The six of them took off running following Father Milhouse who was proving much faster on his feet than one would have expected.

"Why aren't we going to the lift-house?" Cal demanded as soon as he realized that they were heading west rather than north.

"There are too many of them. Me and my brothers who remain true to our cause will not be able to hold it long enough for you to complete the journey down. You will need to exit the temple by another way." He explained.

"What about Mirri, we have to warn her!" James demanded.

Cal kept right on running.

"Yeah, I'm sure she's in so much danger from near mindless undead. I bet they'll pose a real threat to someone who can turn into a miniature fog-bank on command. It's those of us who are corporeal and want desperately to remain that way who I'm more worried about." The alchemist pointed acerbically.

Father Milhouse lead the group to a small section of the rocky mountain which had been cut away to make room for a stout wooden door with heavy bars laid across it.

"Make your way through here while I gather the rest of the order." He instructed them.

James began to raise the bars at once but he as he began to fiddle with the bolts he found it harder going.

"Oh come on, you once claimed you could pick locks while blindfolded, now you can't even get a door bared door open from the side its supposed to be opened from?" Cal demanded in exasperation.

Ignoring his jibes James continued to fiddle with the door.

"That's manipulation of tiny intricate tumblers, I'm good at that. This stupid door hasn't been used for so long, it's rusted shut! It's not a matter of delicate finger work, but main force!" James explained.

"Then stand back." Alexander insisted.

James did.

Wolf Claw slashed again.

The wooden door not being made of mystical indestructabilitium or whatever the Table of Life had been forged from was promptly reduced to kindling.

With the door out of the way the group streamed through the opening, and none too soon either as Father Milhouse was returning the room he had come from followed by all of the monks who had joined the adventures in the dinning hall.

"Just as well, we'll hold them for longer on the other side of where they'll get bottled up." He commanded observing the ruins of the door.

On the other side there was a very narrow winding trail and some very steep cliffs leading downward, though at least slightly less so than the ones near the lift.

"We'll buy you as much time as we can. You must make sure my fallen charges do not reclaim the Table of Life. You must find a way to what we never could, destroy it!" He demanded.

"Father..." Florence began but before the dryad could go any further he cut her off.

"My first death took me so subtly that I did not even realize it had come upon me. I intend for my second one to be far more befitting a man of my station. There is no end more fitting for a Guardian then giving his life to keep an evil artifact safe from those who would abuse it." He declared proudly.

"Great. He'll give us a head start, then all we have to do is run down a mountain trail without slipping to our deaths while being chased by bad guys who never get tired. We're really home free now!" Cal cackled seeming to define some perverse delight in his pessimism.

"We're not running..." His leader insisted.

"Oh great, so we're going to throw our lot in with the monks and get slaughtered by mummies? Didn't you hear the part about how he wants us to get away with the Table of Life? It's like a blessed quest at this point!" The blond haired man reminded Alexander.

"We're getting away, but we're not going to run. Devi, I've got a plan..." Alexander Diamondclaw ordered.

XXX XXX XXX

"Rope, never go on adventure with out it." Devi reflected as she bound herself tightly to the Table.

The roar of the decrepit monks and the sounds of their footfalls grew closer.

"I'll praise your brilliance once we get to the bottom of the cliff, I promise." Cal swore before he bucked his hips forward and the others began to do so in time with him.

The Table of Life began to skid down the face of the cliff like the world's roughest sled ride, and without the cushioning factor of snow either.

Bumps were many and despite the discomfort they brought with them almost cherished for the fact that they at least did something to slow the table's progress. They were about halfway down the mountainside when Alexander spotted that escape might not be so easy as he first imagined.

"The lift!" He pointed in shock.

Clearly the withered monks were not quite so mindless as one might expect, as they must have remained enough of their wits to still operate the device which was now granting so of them a much less brutal journey down from the top of the mountain.

"We're never gonna be able to outrun them back to Doctor Fran's place lugging this huge table all the way!" James lamented.

"We won't have to." Cal assured him.

Shifting awkwardly given the somewhat confining nature of the situation Cal managed to free Phoenix from its strap.

"Devi take my reading glasses." He instructed the elf.

She awkwardly reached around and undid the straps lifting the lenses from Cal's face as he raised the weapon to his shoulder's and then looked down the sights.

He watched and waited for the better part of twenty seconds, eager for the next major bump to occur, and in its wake he reacquired his target and fired.

Phoenix's roar sounded louder than ever, but the table's swift progress carried them away from the sound's wake in mere moments.

"Did you actually hit anything?" Alexander insisted, being in the front of the table he had focus on doing what little anyone could to steer the mystical artifact on its wild journey down the mountainside.  
>"Just wait for it Boss!" Cal predicted keeping his eyes tightly focused on the lift that was still descending downwards, if anything it was starting to pick up speed.<p>

The lift accelerated more and more as the chord that supported it left horribly frayed by Cal's shot began to unravel more and more. Being little more than skin and bones the undead monks were not that heavy, but there were heavy enough.

The "snap" sound was too soft for any of the adventurers to hear, but it didn't matter.

All of them could see (even Alexander out of the corner of his eye) that those monks on board the lift were suddenly in for an even rougher ride than those they were chasing. The lift was no longer being lowered to the ground instead it was in free fall accelerating with every passing second until it reached one of two possible fates, terminal velocity, or the ground.

It was hard to say which came first, but the latter certainly had a more lasting impact upon the lift and its occupants.

Having cut off from the most obvious source of pursuit there was no further signs of the the undead monks giving chase and the group managed to ride the table to the bottom of the cliff in relative peace from that point on.

Once the table finally slid to a stop James promptly began to start undoing his restraints right before Mirri (who sure enough had floated down in her vaporous form then returned to a more solid one) tackled him and pressed him firmly back against the table.

"Oh no you don't. Remember what Father Milhouse said, it's the Table of Life not the table of invulnerability." She reminded the werecat.

The alchemist nodded in agreement as he began to rummage at his remaining potions, glad to see that the special containers he'd had made for them had managed to withstand the rigors of the recent trip.

"That's right. I highly suggest each of you take at least one of these..." He removed a pair of bottles from his belt each one filled to the brim with strange translucent liquid which smelled like over distilled liquor.

"When it comes to mending skin, knitting broken bones and otherwise healing wounds this stuff is as good as it gets. For example right now I do believe I have three... make that four broken ribs..." Cal popped the cap off and drank deeply from the bottle.

"Not anymore though, I highly suggest anyone who doesn't want to fall over dead the moment they step off of this table chug a lug." He handed out potions and everyone drank.

"So did you have fun?" Mirri asked, clearly already knowing the answer.

"Tons. In fact, I'm going to start riding mystical artifacts down the sides of mountains for the sheer joy of it all the time once we get back to civilization!" Cal boasted, refusing to let Mirri be the only one to stretch their sarcasm muscles at the moment.

XXX XXX XXX

With the lift shattered, Father Milhouse and his companions holding the narrow pass leading down from the monastery the mindless monks would not be catching up to the Table of Life any time soon. None the less, swapping who was carried relic between them the group beat a double time march back to Doctor Fran's estate. He was overjoyed to see them again so soon and had Felix and Orson whip up a second dinner just for them.

XXX XXX XXX

"My master needs to see you." Felix poked his head up at the edge of the small sanctuary Florence had made and spoke just as Alexander was starting to remove the outer layer of his clothing.

"Of course he does." The silver haired man reflected.

"I don't suppose he told you why?" Alexander ruminated feeling certain that he already knew the answer.

"No, it was most unusual. One moment he was examining the Table of Life, the next he was practically dancing around the lab and told me that I needed to bring you to him with all possible haste." The man in dark red explained.

"No rest for the wicked, and no pleasure for the virtuous." Alexander muttered, planting a soft kiss on his dryad companion's lips before slowly rising to his feet and following Felix back toward the estate.

XXX XXX XXX

"So what did you consider so important that it could not wait until a more reasonable hour to discuss?" Alexander asked a touch irritated by having his private time with Florence interrupted.

"Well it's quite simple Mr. Diamondraw, does this rag smell like ether to you?" No sooner had Francis Vaster misremembered Alexander's name once again then Felix struck from behind slamming the chemical coated rag across the adventurer's face.

Almost instantly his vision went blurry and his knees went weak. As Alexander fell to the floor having been taken by completely by surprise by this treachery he resisted with the only show of defiance he could still manage, extending the middle digit of each hand upwards, objecting to both Doctor Fran's betrayal and his sense of humor.

Chapter Eleven Author Notes: CLIFFHANGER!

I'll have some things to Father Milhouse and his monks, but I'm going to save that for "reflections on the adventure" notes I'm going to throw up when all is said and done. For now, the good news is I have the next chapter almost completely written so won't be left in suspense for that long.


	12. Chapter 12

Monster Party Book One: I hunt, therefore I am!

Chapter Twelve: When captured by the Axis and forced to tell the truth...

Alexander was having the dream again.

It wasn't as common these days, but every so often like a wound that had failed to heal properly, it made its presence known.

"So I lost..." He heard his own voice whisper, his throat was far too parched to be capable of proper speech at the moment.

He was laying flat on his back, held in place by manacles that felt like they weighed more than the entire world.

"Correct. You lost. You, your rabid band of followers and your 'invasion' have been crushed.

The marks you left on my land will fade. The damage will be undone in time, soon enough only the history books will recall your actions, if even they bother to." As he spoke Alexander's vanquisher came closer now, gazing deeply into his eyes.

"Was it worth it? Was it worth it to cause so much chaos? Why do you insist upon being such a beast? What say you, you who would have torn this entire nation down given half a chance? WHAT SAY YOU NOW!" That damnable voice demanded of him.

It was only a dream though, and so Alexander didn't have to stick to 'the script' and he could say whatever he wanted, even if his throat was so dry he could barely say anything at all.

He motioned for his captor to lean closer. Alexander could find the strength for only two words, but they would make perfectly clear exactly how he felt about the accusations being leveled against him.

"F**k you..." He wheezed out and threw his head back his lips opening and closing in spasms of silent laughter.

Then he woke up, and discovered that even though he had left his dream, he was still bound hand and foot, only with leather straps instead of metal manacles.

"Out of the fire and into the frying pan..." Alexander muttered to himself.

"Ahh you're finally awake Mr. Diamondclaw!" Doctor Fran noted.

"Hey, you finally got my name right. Well that's something..." The adventurer reflected.

(Scene Break)

Delphi slowly crept towards the guest cottage.

She shouldn't be doing this, she was betraying her father. But... but, she could not shake the feeling that father was betraying her with the way he was treating these people.

Alexander had been summoned to his laboratory, she'd overheard Felix talking with him on her way out for a swim. As much as she feared the jungle, she could not resist the siren call of the ocean.

When she'd returned he still had not been back with Florence, that wasn't so strange of course her father had stayed up lots of late nights preforming experiments on animals before. Except that a quick trip to the menagerie had shown that there were no missing animals who might be currently going under the knife in the laboratory.

She'd even accidentally caught sight of Orson wheeling in a tray filled with boiling water, white cloth, and fresh scalpels. It was everything that one would need for surgery, except a patient... unless Alexander was the 'patient' who as going to be operated on tonight.

Her father studies animals, her father experimented on animals, Delphi knew that had long ago accepted it.

What she could not accept was that her father. sweet kind Doctor Francis Vaster was about to study... about to experiment on... another human being who had only helped him.

So she headed for the guest cottage and looked around. James and Miriam should have been here, they'd mentioned that they would be sleeping in the main room while Cal and Devi took the private one and Alexander and Florence should have been off in the jungle.

That meant James and Miriam were the closest, it was only right that Delphi went to them for help. Except that neither of them were present inside the room... it seemed as empty as it had before they'd come, except for a large ornate coffin, neither her father nor his servants had moved it here and James and Miriam certainly hadn't carried it in with them when they first arrived... had they?

"Delphi, you must be brave." The young girl told herself.

She had already come here to betray her father, compared to doing that what did she have to fear from opening up a coffin? Still, as she looked upon it, she saw words printed upon the lid in fancy golden script.

"Rør ikke katten uden en handske?" She muttered to herself. Delphi could recognize the letters (well most of them) but the words they made up no sense.

They must be from the language of some nation who her books did not cover. Gazing down at them for a moment, she tried to puzzle out their meaning... something about a cat and a handshake?

It didn't matter.

She grabbed the lid, heaved, and the coffin remained firmly closed.

"OH COME ON!" Delphi moaned, bad enough that she should be forced to deal with something as bizarre and ominous as this, but the coffin lid was so heavy that she had trouble shifting it on her own. Taking a deep breath she made another attempt.

"Come on you stupid piece of wood, open!" She heaved with all the might she could muster, and a few seconds later Delphi promptly wished that that the coffin lid had stayed shut.

She wasn't sure what she had been expecting but it certainly was not what she ended up getting.

For out of the coffins sprung the Crimson Cat, the nightmarish feline that had for so long dwelt in the back of her mind since she saw it broke into her father's menagerie. Fur puffed up it hissed in anger at her and Delphi took off running as fast as she could.

She slammed the door shut behind her and wished with all her might that it would be possible for her to have barred the door from the outside in order to shut the creature in. There was no way to do that without locking herself in with the beast, and nothing, NOTHING could make her do that!

She could not bar the door, could not think clearly, all she could do was run. Delphi got about all of twenty feet before she promptly tripped on a root, and fell face first in the dirt.

It wasn't fair, father was going crazy, Akanga's servants were coming and going throughout the estate as they pleased, now all she needed to do was to come down with the animal melding disease and her life would have completely and utterly come apart.

She closed her eyes and waited to feel jaws close around her throat. But instead she felt warm strong arms go around her and help her up.

"Hey are you all right Delphi?" James Firecat asked, polite as ever.

Delphi spun her head around looking for any sign of the beast that had been chasing her just moments ago. She saw no sign of it, but didn't let that make her feel safe, cats were nothing if not experts at hiding from their prey until they struck.

"Keep your eyes open, it could be anywhere!" Delphi warned him.

"What could be?" James asked eyebrows arching upwards in confusion.

"The Crimson Cat!" Delphi spluttered wondering how James could have possibly caught up with her without seeing the beast, unless it had stayed in the guest room for some reason while James had approached from somewhere else entirely.

"Oh, don't worry about it, that's me. Sorry about hissing at you back there, Mirri and I were sort of in the middle of something important when you opened the lid." James tossed off out this particular explanation as if he was talking about the weather as opposed to something that had caused Delphi some rather serious mental trauma for the last few days.

"What?" She couldn't even bring herself to shout it at his face no matter how much she wanted to, instead she could only have it roll out in a voice so shocked it was all but utterly emotionless.

James lifted his wide-brimmed hat revealing a pair of familiar furry cat ears.

"Yeah I'm a werecat. Not the kind of thing that I wave and shout about but you probably were pretty close to figuring it out after you saw me come out of the coffin right?" He asked, his tone of voice as innocent and gentle as ever.

"YOU KNOCKED ME DOWN!" Delphi's anger had finally managed to roll its way to the forefront of her mind.

"No I didn't you tripped on that root." Said James in confusion pointing at the offending bit of botany in question.

Delphi shoved James so hard that her own chronic inner ear issues caused her to lose her balance and fall to the ground again, even worse James had the audacity to remain standing.

"Not right now! I meant back when you first showed up, the night you robbed my father's menagerie!" She reminded him bitterly.

James courteously bent down and began to help Delphi to her feet again (how dare he be so chivalrous at a time like this!) without a moment's hesitation.

"Well it was a small door. I could have either knocked you down and gotten past you or waited around till you decided to scream your head off and your father showed up. Listen I have nothing but respect for his work and his efforts to help the animals and people of this island, but vivisection has never been one of my favorite hobbies in the world and I really didn't want to end up occupying a cage of my own, not that Alex would stand for something like that of course." James answered.

That just made it worse in Delphi's eyes, it would have been one thing for the charming handsome lad to be possessed with some kind of inner darkness that her struggled mightily to suppress. That was, well was almost down right heroic when viewed in the right light, especially if he had contracted the condition by way of some Vistani's curse or the bite of a fiend that he was bringing to justice.

It was clear however from his easy confidence and glib mannerisms that James Firecat did not suffer from lycanthropy, say rather he reveled in it!

"Does Miriam know?" Delphi demanded angrily her heart going out to the obviously betrayed woman who this cad was catting around on.

"I'm surprised you even have to ask, that was her coffin we came out. Don't worry she told me her your father already knows she's a vampire and wasn't about to make an issue of it." James explained tossing out still more world shattering bits of news like a kindhearted nobleman tossed coppers to his servants.

He did it with equal disregard for what those who received his 'gifts' made of them.

"That's it, I GIVE UP!" Delphi exclaimed kicking at the dirt in irritation careful to keep her balance throughout this time.

"I can't believe I ever thought I would betray father to help any of you! I imagine Alexander must have done some horrible things of his own in the past which makes him deserve to get vivisected!" Delphi bellowed her mouth running so far ahead of her brain that the two would have needed semaphore to communicate.

"Doctor Fran is going to vivisect Alex?" James asked his brown eyes suddenly going wide.

(Scene Break)

Alexander strained against the straps as he realized it was not a normal table he was bound to, it was the Table of Life itself...

"You're only wasting your time Alexander. I use same straps to hold back both man and beast. Your bindings are strong enough to keep a bear restrained, just the thing for dealing with uncooperative patients wouldn't you agree?" Doctor Fran noted his voice a cruel mockery of its normal self.

"You know... I'm starting to think you're not really a doctor." Alexander reflected as he abandoned his efforts to break free.

"That all depends on how one looks at things. I will admit when it comes to curing disease by the application of potions and tinctures I still have a great deal to learn, but surgery... I am an all but unrivaled expert at surgery. After all, I am Frantisek Markov, ruler of Markovia!" Frantisek announced with wicked glee.

"Markov..." Alexander spoke the word slowly, as if contemplating each and every single syllable of it extremely deeply.

As his vision continued to clear he was able to see that "Doctor Fran" was now dressed only in a simple apron, and that he was not a man, not really, he was a gorilla with a human head.

"I do believe I've heard stories of you, the pig butcher who decided that butchery wasn't enough to sate his interests." Alexander ruminated.

"Oh yes." Markov admitted openly.

"Butchery, bah! Any dullard with a blade can go about the business of separating head from neck, or limb from body. Surgery on the other hand, surgery with all its nuance and brilliant intricacies is an activity fit for a king! Sadly even a king will run out of patients to treat sooner or later if they insist on dieing halfway through the operation." Frantisek Markov reflected ruefully.

"I should have suspected, a beast with the head of a man, so many creatures neither man nor beast, would have suspected... but the last time I checked an atlas Markovia was a landlocked nation. So what are you doing out here as an island?" Alexander inquired, sounding almost genuinely aggrieved at this particular twist of fate.

"That is a mystery even to me Alexander. Sadly I find a man typically has time in his life to study only a single such question." The Darklord admitted openly.

"By the way Markov, good job, this entire act was much craftier than what I'd been told most Darklords are capable of. You changed your name, grew a beard and mustache, didn't keep the same initials, didn't spell it backwards, didn't use some kind of obscure anagram, you had another 'Darklord' ready to be your scapegoat, you even said you were from Larmodia instead of Barovia and given how long you claimed to be alone on this island no one would raise a fuss about how atrocious your accent was!

Sadly I can't give you top marks because you insisted only changing Frantisek to Francis instead of something completely unrelated like Douglas." Alexander pointed out, hoping to keep his captor talking just a little bit longer.

"I'll keep in that mind the next I'm fortunate enough to have guests." Markov noted without emotion.

"By the way, do you really think you're going to get away with this? My companions, Florence especially, are going to notice that I've vanished before long." He reminded Frantisek.

"Felix will spin a tale from them about how you're too busy helping me in the lab to join them for a meal, in fact that will be the Mist's own truth! It won't have to hold together long, just until they help themselves to breakfast. The mushroom sauce will be given a little extra flavoring, a powerful sedative derived from the mushrooms of this island.

Orson and Felix will handle things from there, though I'll also have a few dozen of the broken ones loyal to me on hand just in case. I could have captured you all in one go of course, but now that the Table of Life is finally within my grasp, I simply could not wait till morning to try it out!

I am certain what I learn in tonight's experiments will be key to helping me break my curse and return to the body of a proper human instead of this bestial mockery I am forced to make do with!" The gorilla bodied man boasted happily.

"Do you have a plan for how to deal with Mirri? She told me how you already know she's a vampire, even if you could get her to eat something in the first place it it's remarkably difficult to poison someone who is already dead." Alexander pointed out.

"Ah yes, dear Miriam. I do not think that any subduing will be required on her account. We are two of a kind you see, power calling to power, the strong were made to rule, the weak to be broken and forced to serve! For too long I have been a King without a Queen, a God without a Goddess for my Pantheon, she is worthy of ruling at my side.

Truly Alexander you have brought so very many gifts to me, and so I will do my utmost to repay the favor. You will make a splendid Broken One, I will see to it that you alone are given a chance to claim Akanga's head!" The Darklord ruminated.

"How do you plan to explain to Delphi what happened to your guests?" Alexander needled Markov continuing to search for a verbal chink in his captor's armor.

"I've raised my daughter better than that. Unlike my not so dear but oh so very departed Ludmilla, Delphi knows better than to question what I do behind closed doors. " Frantisek Markov insisted as he gave Alexander's restraints a few testing tugs to make doubly sure of their strength.

"You know, I'm not sure if this occurred to you yet or not Markov, but, you could... just stop. You wish to make yourself fully human again? WHY? Aside from a few shipwrecked castaways there aren't any true humans left in all of Markovia!

Haven't you heard the saying about how in the land of the blind a one eyed man can be king? At this point managing to fix your condition would probably jut make you more of an outcast!" Alexander insisted.

Markov shook his head mournfully.

"Ah if only it were so simple. You fail to grasp the true nature of my goals Alexander. Restoring myself to a human body is only the first step. I have been plagued with all manner of problems as I sought to attain that step, from a dearth of patients to Akanga and his band of rebels, but soon, soon they will be no more.

With the Table of Life to aid me I shall craft the most perfect, most powerful, most obedient broken ones yet and they shall finally crush that leonine nuisance along with his foolish followers! Once I have accomplished that, I will remake my broken ones next! Under my knife their cracks will be mended, I shall find a way call forth brilliance from the base flesh of beasts! I will accomplish with my tools in a few hours what it took the gods millenia!" Frantisek Markov bellowed his boast/challenge at the top of his lungs.

"No wonder you claimed to have been from Lamordia... Let me guess, you learned the tongue reading Victor Mordenheim's papers on human anatomy didn't you?" Alexander was unable to keep himself from muttering dourly.

"It's a beautiful language and indeed we shared some most insightful correspondence before my unexpected geographic relocation. It was hard enough to find couriers before, and sadly none of my experiments on avians have retained the ability to fly so homing pigeons were out of the question as well, thus we have not exchanged missives in far too long.

Granted, he has some absurd notions on what constitutes 'life', feeling that it can be imbued through the mere manipulations of diodes, switches and the elements. Possibly that might be enough to force some semblance of existence into flesh that has long since past on but it not truly life!

Perhaps a unique few like Miriam are chosen to continue on beyond the normal bounds of mortality but otherwise the departed should be left in peace. Committing acts of surgery upon the dead? Where is the point to it if you can not make records of how the subject reacts? Fie on such foolish notions!

Likewise, he refuses to recognize my own brilliance on the subject of how by manipulating a subject's cerebral tissue it is possible to increase or decrease their mental facilities not to mention alter their personality.

If he was disappointed with the way his 'son' was acting he should have taken him back under the knife, for what piece of art is ever so perfect that it can not be improved by another round of revision? I once had hopes of inviting him to Markovia to personally oversee and comment on my work, but alas he was ever the recluse. Do you know if he has been doing well recently?" Markov inquired with something approaching genuine concern.

"Sorry I haven't been to Lamordia recently, try asking Cal when it's his turn." Alexander informed the Markov.

"I shall make a note of it." The sanity impaired surgeon declared with dreadful earnesty, and with that the momentary stay of execution the adventurer had won was spent.

"The question is, what is a man?" The Darklord asked to the room at large.

"From what I've seen most are nothing but a miserable pile of secrets." Alexander answered abruptly, though for a Darklord in mid rant Frantisek Markov took the interruption with surprisingly good grace.  
>"How very droll. Do be serious with me Alexander, you see this is the question that I have dedicated so much of my energy and time to trying to answer. Is it the mind? Is it the hand? The opposable thumb? The upright manner? Perhaps it's the spine, or forward facing predatory eyes. Something as simple as communal nature or mysterious and unknowable as the mythical soul." As Markov spoke he started to examine a series of countless scalpels hung before him before his large rough hand eventually seized around one in particular.<p>

"This one will do. What is a man? That is precisely what we're about to try and find out together..." Frantisek insisted as he began to approach the bound adventurer.

The blade began to descend ready to make the first and most important incision when suddenly Alexander cried out.

"Wait! Frantisek Markov, though I did not know your true name at the time, I served you faithfully! Did I not bring you this very Table of Life I now lay upon? I think it is only fair that this should earn me a boon..." He pleaded.

The scalpel was momentarily withdrawn and then his captor suddenly laughed. Not the cruel mocking laugh of a jailor to his prisoner but Doctor Fran's normal jovial booming laugh.

"A boon? A boon you would have of me Alexander? An interesting proposition, have I not come most dramatically into your life?" He asked not so much to Alexander as to his pair of followers for all of a sudden both Felix and Orson fell to the floor and pressed their faces into its tiles without hesitation.

"Diosamblet..." They whispered pitifully.

"I have come to bring you power!" Markov noted his voice growing still louder.

"Diosamblet." The pair repeated.

"I have come to bring you justice!" He announced.

"Diosamblet!" It was a shout now.

"I have come to bring you pain!" His voice rumbled like thunder.

"DIOSAMBLET!" At the same time Orson and Felix wailed out the title like tortured souls.

"Let the judgment proceed!" He declared before suddenly leaning in and whispering into Alexander's ears.

"That means you may ask for you boon. But do please spare us the silliness of any further please for your release, humor is rare enough gift in Markovia but fresh fully human beings are even rarer.

I simply must be allowed to practice my craft, practice makes perfect after all. Do not fear, I have improved with tremendous leaps and bounds form the days when I once slaughtered hogs. Now with the Table of Life, I shall bestride the world of surgery like a colossus!" Markov noted with growing anticipation.

"If you wish to make me into a half man half beast... before you do, do you think you could at least see fit to making me a whole man first? It's my right eye you see..." Alexander pleaded his voice sounding pitiful, weak, and spent.

Frantisek Markov actually took a step back away from Alexander and considered this for a full minute during which time his two servants remained in their poses of utter and complete supplication before finally reaching his conclusion.

"Diosamblet is merciful! You shall have your boon Alexander! I shall make a whole man out of you and so much more as well! So let us have a look at the damage to be repaired shall we?" Markov commanded as he returned to Alexander's side.

He made one swift slash with his scalpel and the strap holding the eyepatch to Alexander's head was severed. Then Markov reached out with his free hand and began to push it aside, interested to see just what lay beneath.

In his long life Frantisek Markov had seen (and inflicted) all manner of deformities and injuries so he though himself well prepared for whatever might lay beneath that eyepatch be it a normal eye turned milky white, sealed shut by some nasty scar, one punctured by some pinpoint tiny cut oozing repulsive fluid or even an empty gaping hole which hinted at the now completely missing ocular organ.

Still, for all of his years as a sawyer of bones and slicer of flesh what he saw beneath that patch still came as a shock to the Darklord.

It was an eye.

A seemingly perfectly healthy and functional eye.

But it didn't belong in Alexander's face, it didn't belong upon the face of any human being. It was the right size, but its was a deep golden yellow color and as the light being cast down from overhead struck it fully, it reflected the stuff back with an unnatural glimmer.

Frantisek Markov gazed deeply into that eye as he looked upon Alexander's face with almost childlike glee and amazement as if he had just discovered the biggest most brightly wrapped birthday gift imaginable.

"You see Markov, no matter how hard I try to get rid of it, it just won't come out!" Alexander cackled with a sudden manic energy.

"That eye... I've seen its like in my wolf broken ones. That however, that was a closer to the transplant of an entire head, crude but not completely without some manner of success none the less, in your case though...

Just the eye, and transplanted so smoothly that even I will admit I did not suspect it in the slightest. To do that would require a surgeon even greater than myself! You must tell me Alexander, who did this to you!" Frantisek requested, for the moment he was more interested in the alterations that had already taken place to Alexander's body to worry about inflicting any of his own.

"I did this to myself Markov, because I once considered myself above the 'monsters' of this world because I was 'fairer' to look upon than they rather than purer of spirit. When I refused to believe that foulness could be a treat for the eye, or goodness be something that would turn the stomach. I deserved to have this mark placed upon me and have my body twisted for my arrogance.

You know, when we first arrived on this island, you told me if we stayed too long we might be struck down by an illness which would cause us to take on the aspects of beasts. Well doctor..." Alexander's explanation of his past suddenly switched gears with a startling abruptness.

Even more startling his body suddenly began to transform, inflicting upon itself the sort of changes in seconds that Markov had brought to his broken ones over hours or days of surgery. Hair grew and thickened into fur, blunt teeth became predatory fangs, ears migrated from the side to the top of the head, Alexander's muscles which were already well developed now became extravagant.

"You could say I'm symptomatic." A creature that was now more wolf than man declared in a voice that was somehow perfectly human.

By the time Frantisek Markov was able to comprehend the words the first strap had already burst. It was the one around Alexander's neck, the weakest, thinnest, and least important, for while it might complicate surgery its defeat wouldn't offer a captive any true chance of escape.

At least such had been his original thought process on the mater.

It was a presumption that was challenged by the way his newest patient however now lunged his furred head forward and with one snap of his great jaws bit cleanly through the restraints holding his right arm in place.

His left was freed with equal abruptness and the claws fell upon the straps holding his legs without mercy. In moments a silver furred monster which seamlessly blended the bipedal nature of the a man with the carnivorous bearing of the wolf and a size greater than either on its own pushed itself off of the table.

Unrestrained it now stood as tall and nearly as wide shouldered as Frantisek himself.

"You skimped on the avian saliva didn't you, I can tell..." The silver furred wolf monster boasted.

For a brief moment the pair just stood there the Darklord a mix of gorilla and man and his 'prisoner' a mix of wolf and man both taking stock of the other.

Then Markov struck, burying his scalpel in the wolf creature's right shoulder, his primate strength easily driving his weapon home up to its hilt through fur, flesh, and muscle.

Except there was so much fur flesh and muscle to be found upon the wolf creature...

Whatever that scalpel's virtues as an instrument of surgery or torture it was ill-suited to the challenges of slaying a beast as large as the one which now stood before the Darklord.

"I think you're gonna to need a bigger blade." The wolf noted with bemusement before it struck out with is left claw, a horizontal sweep that no normal wolf could have ever employed.

It knocked Markov a few paces but did him no real damage.

"You would dare to strike the Diosamblet?!" Orson roared, Markov's ursine servant had content to be his normal placid self even while events as amazing as Alexander's transformation were taking place.

The sight of another attacking his master however he would not countenance and began to lumber forward intent on reducing this foe before him to a broken and ruined pulp. He never got the chance however, momentarily given the freedom to move how it pleased the wolf monster bent its knees and jumped.

The large chandelier which provided light to the operating room was hung nearly fifty feet from the floor, but the wolf monster cleared the distance in one seemingly effortless leap. It balanced there for a few short seconds clearly aware that it's new peach was of a rather precious nature given its own weight.

"I am afraid we will have to reschedule our appointment Doctor..." It uttered, it's cultured voice still shockingly at odds with its bestial body.

Then it jumped again, and plunged through the thatch roof Markov's home like a furry boulder leaving a most surprised and incensed Frantisek Markov in its wake. For a several long seconds silence hung in the room like an oppressive fog until the Darklord finally broke it.

"I liked that scalpel..." He admitted to no one in particular.

(Scene Break)

"Well I'm tempted to wish him luck." James chuckled with a wide smile.

"I'M NOT JOKING!" Delphi screamed at him.

"Neither am I." The werecat replied.

WHAM!

Suddenly a blurry shape crashed through the roof of the estate.

The creature headed straight for them, leaping off the roof and landed a moment later.

It was the largest wolf broken one Delphi could possibly imagine, and its fur glistened silver rather than more traditional white or gray.

It just... stood there, looking at her, as if wondering if there was even enough meat on her bones to make her worth the effort of eating.

"Hey Alex, looks like you're having a bit of an eyepatch emergency. You're lucky that I always keep a few stashed away just in case!" James made casual conversation with wolf broken one in a tone so flippant Delphi was certain that they couldn't possibly be seeing the same thing.

"Glad to see you're up already James, it makes things much less complicated." The wolf broken one said in Alexander Diamondclaw's voice.

Well now at least Delphi knew that she was the one who was having delusions.

James reached into one of the many pockets of his red jacket and produced a black eyepatch on a string. The wolf broken one leaned down (otherwise even standing on tip toe James wouldn't have been tall enough to reach its head) and James slid the eyepatch into place over the creature's right eye.

A moment later it's body seemed to contract in upon itself and began to shrink as it transformed from an exceptionally large wolf broken one, into the shape of Alexander Diamondclaw, his black outfit in an unsurprisingly unruffled shape. At least except for a scalpel buried in his right shoulder which he casually yanked free, flesh and fabric both melding together in the wake of its removal.

"Much better, James go get the others. We're leaving, now." Alexander commanded.

James saluted and raced off back into the guest house. That left an increasingly distraught Delphi alone with Alexander.

"You, Miriam, Father, James... all you ship people ARE MONSTERS!" Delphi clutched at her temple in pain.

"How certain are you that you're truly human, that you're a monster also?" Alexander asked suddenly. The question did Delphi's already shaken mind no favors.

"What... what do you mean?" She whimpered.

"Are monsters found in the way one is looks, the way one is born, or the way one acts? After having of enough of your father's 'hospitality' to last me a life time I'm going to go see if some 'monsters' don't treat me a little better. So do you want to come with me and meet Akanga or stay here?" Alexander informed her.

Meeting Akanga, going straight into the lion's den. But on the other hand, was she really any safe here?

If, if... if she didn't understand father at all, she had no way of knowing how he would react if he found out that she had warned James, and father always found things out sooner or later.

Two horrible choices, and in the end no choice at all.

"I'll go with you." She muttered.

Alexander didn't even bother with further word, she just scooped Delphi up over his shoulders and took off running.

End Chapter

Author Notes Chapter Twelve: It took me about a dozen different attempts/tries to finally find a song lyric I liked for this chapter. Just thought you might want to know. Thankfully there's always Sabaton to fall back on for an awesome song lyric that fits the mood (I needed something that sounded horrific and dark yet didn't obviously hint at a sudden reversal of fortune) though of course if you know your Sabaton, the song line is from "Resist and Bite" with the full line being

"But when captured by the Axis  
>And forced to tell the truth<br>We'll tell it with a smile,  
>We will surprise them with a laugh"<p>

Which of course very much fit Alexander's situation and how he responds to it.

Anyway, this chapter also contains my first honest to goodness surprise even to people who are familiar with Neither Man Nor Beast. Okay technically James being a werecat was a surprise, but we'd barely gotten to know James at all so it hardly counts. Now unlike Mirri in her coffin I doubt anyone saw this coming. That said, I did leave a few clues for you to pick up on if you were looking close enough that hinted at what might be going on under Alexander's eyepatch/that he wasn't a normal human.

Lets count them off so you can reflect on how good (or bad) I am at foreshadowing.

Right from the first chapter Captain Stewart remarks on how his own first mate wears an eye patch despite having two perfectly good eyes. This should serve to plant the idea in your head that not everyone who wears an eyepatch has only one eye.

Also consider the naming convention, those three who present themselves as something other than what they really are, are James FIRECAT, Mirri CATWARRIOR and Alexander DIAMDNOCLAW while the three who open about what they are simply Devi Skye, Cal Wright and even the dryad is simply Florence Bastien, which is far more believable than any of the three proceeding names.

From chapter three onward, Mirri has made her disdain for most mortals/everyone other than James pretty clear, and as Chaotic Evil personality raw strength is just one of the few reasons she would agree to follow someone. So why is it that she refers to Alex with a respectful "Sir" and follows his orders? Because he's something other than a normal mortal.

In chapter six, Florence called Alex a beast and Alexander takes pride in the notion that there are none beastlier than him.

In chapter seven Cal says that Alexander is like a "Booze Bloodhound" playing up the fact that he has superior sense of smell than most people.

In chapter nine Alexander tells Doctor Fran/Markov not to consider where the parts of him other than his heart come from, and as we'll eventually find out, oh but is there a story behind where his right eye came from.

Also at the end of the chapter Alexander is mentioned alongside Mirri as suffering a headache from hearing the gong rung, which suggests his hearing is a lot keener than that of a normal person.

In chapter ten we find out Alexander's sword is named Wolf Claw. Which is sort of a strange name for a sword unless... it's the claw he uses when he doesn't have any others.

In the chapter eleven, we find out that Cal's glasses are reading glasses. The alchemist is far sighted, and shoots better (at least against targets that are a long way away from him) when he takes his glasses off. This touches on the theme on people owning items that in theory impair their capabilities.

Also, yeah as you might guess from his dream Alexander was something of a bastard in his past to say the least. Probably something like three failed power checks before he turned his life around.

Double also before you even ask, no Alexander is not a werewolf. After all the effort that I put into detailing James' efforts to find enough fresh meat to get by on, if Alexander required even more (though he could be slightly less choosey since wolves are scavengers) then it would be the height of bad writing not to touch on his eating habits up to this point in the story.

Triple also before you get cute, Alexander is also not a wolfwere (mystical wolf that can turn into a human being) either. That would be stupid because it would require him to be a good version a creature which is evil by default and have their own society to reinforce said evilness (or at least for 'evil' defined as seeing eating humans as okay) and would over all make him a good version of Harkon Lukas which is a stupid idea from start to finish pretty much the ultimate Gary Stu. If you need proof that he is not either of the above creatures, notice that when Alexander is in his "hybrid form" his voice does not get distorted unlike James'.

Alexander Diamondclaw is complicated and we'll learn more of his back story and powers as more books come out. For now, as you might suspect, yes he can only transform out of his human form when he's not wearing an eyepa


	13. Chapter 13

Book one: I hunt therefore I am!

Chapter thirteen: A time of religion and war, legends tell the tale of a lion...

"So how do we actually find Akanga?" Delphi asked as she awkwardly chewed on some stale but filling bread.

She and the ship people had been moving east, away from the estate for most of the night, a few hours past dawn and now finally settling down to eat. Luckily Devi's mystical bag had enough food in it for all of them, though the selection left something to be desired.

In retrospect she was "lucky" that she had discovered her father's true nature while coming back from one of her swims. It meant that she was wearing her cloak and a modest but comfortable slip instead of a dress which wold have been vastly more awkward to go trekking through the jungle in.

"You're adorable." Miriam (who now insisted on calling herself 'Mirri') noted.

One somewhat perturbed glance later the vampire clarified.

"We don't have worry about finding Akanga. He's going to find us before long, in fact I believe he already has." To prove her point, Mirri cupped her hands over her ears and whistled.

James and Alexander both instantly grasped their heads in pain. Those two weren't the only ones though.

They were suddenly there, without warning, manifesting like a desert mirage leaving them completely surrounded. They were silent and stone-faced, their twisted, anthropomorphic faces like masks of some arcane and fell sect. Some of the broken ones were carrying crude weapons but most were armed only with their own claws and jaws.

Despite the pain that Mirri's whistle had clearly brought them, they didn't seem openly hostile, at least not yet. Instead they only stood there watching.

"Mirri..." Alexander growled through gritted teeth.

"Hey, don't complain, it worked." She replied.

Then she waved at the small army of broken ones that encircled them.

She said... something but it was in a language that sounded like nothing but a strange collection of "mews", "chirps" "meows" "growls" and" purrs" that sounded even more animal like than the broken ones looked.

Some of them stood by dumbfounded but a moment later one of the smaller broken ones that was crouching on all fours began to advance. It gazed at them with jade green eyes and replied in the same bizarre tongue that Mirri had addressed the crowd in.

"Huh, who knew being able to speak cat actually would come in handy. James do you want to take over from here though? I'm used to cat with your Mordentish accent, but these guys have a pretty thick Balok one." She admitted.

James' body began to alter and twist before Delphi's eyes, the sight left her glad that the food she had recently eaten was so bland, anything fancier might have been able to force its way back up her throat. It was a near run thing none the less as his muscles bulged, bones twisted and fur grew rapidly while clothing seemed to simply vanish in the blink of an eye.

For all that, there was no hissing, snarling, or any other signs of sudden bestial rage accompanying the change. Nor did the change seem to bring him any pain or discomfort... and that was in some way worse, it was as if his terror and pain of his transformation was reserved only for those around him who suffered so that he might gain greater strength.

Instead of attacking James simply began to converse with the creature in the same tongue Mirri had somehow managed without needing any sort of visible transformation.

"Since James is pussyfooting around with the locals that leaves you free to tell the rest of us what he's actually saying." Cal pointed out fixing his gaze upon Mirri.

"If you insist." She agreed.

"I was asking them who they served, and they said that they served the Lion King. Then James wanted to know where the Lion King was..." She paused for a moment and the cat broken one replied to James, clearly having taken his sudden transformation in a surprisingly blase manner.

"Our new friends' spokescat just said that the Lion King will be along soon enough." There were still more sounds being uttered towards them.

"Huh, apparently Akanga warned them that one of us might be able to transform into a red furred cat creature. Guess he's better informed than I would have expected." Mirri reflected.

A moment later the crowd of broken ones parts at one side and a great lion-headed man strides into the clearing. He was wearing leggings made of the hide of some dark-furred beast and had scars across his broad chest and muzzle.

His eyes were those of a predator, missing nothing while his smile showed rows of razor-sharp teeth. Behind him a quarter of deer men brought a high back chair made of wicker. The lion-man nodded to them as they sat it down. He eased himself into the chair facing the group.

"I am Akanga, and we must talk." He said in a deep rolling voice. Despite his strange shape much like when Alexander had become a... whatever it was he had turned into, Akanga's voice somehow sounded far more human than he looked.

"Yes we do." Alexander admitted, and he slowly turned about leveling a gaze at each and every single broken one which surrounded him.

"First of all, whatever you may think or have heard of our actions up until now, know for a certainty that I will not stand idly by while you harm any of my pack, even its newest omega." Alexander declared coldly.

While Delphi was glad to know that he didn't intend to leave her twisting in the wind, all the same she could have done without the attention his words brought. Akanga took a moment to fixate upon her, and much like Alexander in his more lupine form she had the distinct impression that he was sizing her up for a meal only to be saved by how she was too pitiful to even be worth the effort of devouring.

Then thankfully he returned his attention back to the silver haired man.

"Can you give me any reason why I should not have my followers feast upon for you for all you have done to aid my greatest enemy?" He inquired almost whimsically.

"None of us would be out here if we were still on good terms with Markov, and we wouldn't have been on good terms with Markov in the first place if he had been honest with us. Sadly, as the human saying goes, any port in a storm." He reminded the lion broken one.

"Yes, the False God is very good at deceiving those around him. He holds many of this island in fear of his wrath and dares to call himself Diosamblet... 'the god who walks among us' hah! He is no god and he will not walk once I am done with him!

If so many of my fellow broken ones who continue to worship him even after they have gone beneath his knife, I will not judge you too harshly on that account. Redemption will have a price though, you must toil as dutiful to cast down the False God as you did to aid him." Akanga insisted.

Alexander began to look around at the crowd of countless different types of broken ones that surrounded him.

"How do you expect us to do that exactly?" He asked tapping fingers against his back where Wolf Claw and its sheath should have been.

"I have managed to gather a full fourth of this island's population to my banner. A similar number stand by Diosamblet and the rest cower like the animals they resemble and refuse to choose a side. With such numbers, aided by you 'humans'... the False God's reign shall not survive another week." Akanga predicted.

"Do you have a particular plan for how you're going to assault Markov's estate?" Alexander demanded.

"We will advance to within an hour's march of it, then we will rest and eat heartily while my stealthiest followers set fires which will burn away the trees directly around the estate to gives us a clear field upon which to do battle. Come the next dawn, we attack." Akanga snarled.

Alexander had certainly heard worse battle plans (first among them being "Lets try and invade that place where every single one of my soldiers who dies turn into one more undead we have to fight against, I'm sure it'll work if only enough men are committed to the task!") and if it was lacking in subtlety, somehow he suspected that such was all to the good when it was an army of broken ones who would need to carry out the orders.

"That sounds perfectly reasonable, and we'd be happy to join you on principle of not getting along with Darklords alone. That said, Markov happens to have my sword, and I'm very fond of that sword. When all this is aid and done, I'll be wanting it back. Also I highly suggest you put me and my pack, minus its newest omega of course at the van of your army. We'll be able to do the most good there." Alexander suggested.

"Believe me I want you under my eyes. Yet, you suggest you'll be able to do the most good right in the thick of battle, while you lack a sword?" Akanga noted rather wryly.

"Funny story, about that. What is a sword but a claw for that a human crafts for himself to make up for their own blunt nails? What is clothing or armor but a way to make up for the lack of a pelt? Believe me Akanga, I'm well enough in touch with my inner animal that I can kill just fine without human trappings." Alexander boasted.

The lion broken one and the silver haired man spent a very long time staring into one another's eyes (well eye in Alexander's case) but eventually Akanga relented.

"You know... I believe that you could. Come, let us have a meal together and in the feast your 'pack' shall become true members of my pride." He offered.

XXX XXX XXX

Akanga watched this "Delphi" depart. His own spy network might not quite be the equal of False God's but at the very least he knew the nature of the Diosamblet's most trusted followers.

This one might look human, thought in truth she was anything but. One night shortly after a storm years ago back while he was just a humble man or a humbler still beast (Akanga had no knowledge of his past before he was broken, nor did much desire to regain it) the False God had found a small family of dolphins washed ashore after a terrible storm.

The mother and father had both gotten their bellies gashed open by the rocks that surrounded the island and swiftly perished, their lifeblood momentarily darkening the beach's shores. The two's calf however had been spared such wounds.

A beached dolphin can take a very long time to die, long enough that the the False God could find her, long enough that he could work his warped sciences upon her body to create a new follower.

It no doubt pleased the tyrant to hold up Delphi of a symbol how how he could grant beauty and grace instead of his normal ugliness and deformity even if she was the sole subject he had found worthy of that particular gift.

Clearly the girl had even less grasp of False God's true nature than most of his deluded followers. Well that might be all to the good Akanga reflected. After her overthrew the Diosamblet, he might need to establish... the human term sat on the tip of his long tongue as he searched for something that had no bestial equivalent.

It was not a dynasty, nor heirs or offspring for the phrase had nothing to do with mates or cubs...

Legitimacy!

Yes, legitimacy that was it! It might not truly be needed here among the broken ones, but it certainly could not hurt his chances of preventing another from rising to challenge him just as he challenged the Diosamblet.

What greater path to legitimacy could Akanga possibly hope for than to take the one who even the False God acknowledged as his daughter for a mate?

He would not need her love or even her womb, simply the symbolism of the act alone would help cement his status as new master of the island!

Not that he wouldn't prefer to have her love of course, strife in one's pride was fruitful soil from which betrayal was sure to blossom sooner or later. That was a lesson he knew by heart, and intended to teach his creator. With luck the False God would be something less than apt pupil and require several lessons on the subject...

XXX XXX XXX

Delphi was dangling her feet in a stream when she heard him approach. Unlike the crimson cat, unlike James there was precious little stealth in Akanga's movements.

That or he had wanted her to hear him coming... Whatever the reason, she knew he was coming and she slowly got to her feet and turned to face the leonine broken one.

"What have I done to earn your attention Akanga? I would think you would be busy planning your assault on my father's estate." She noted, unable to keep her voice from showing a hint of bitterness.

Akanga clumsily sat down shifting back and forth several times and suddenly Delphi realized that he was struggling with a tail that he did not wish to sit squarely down upon. Looking at him, Akanga's physical appearance was not too different from many of the feline broken ones she had seen before, though none of them had been made from leonine stock.

As she looked at him closely she could only reflect upon just how strangely human his eyes were.

"I have finished my preparations for the coming revolution, now my gaze turns to focus upon what must come after. It is no mean feat to drag the False God down from his throne, but that is only half the battle to come. The other half is to control what I seek to conquer. To control it... I will need your support." Akanga declared.

Delphi bit her lip as she looked long and hard at the lion broken one.

"Is it true, what some of those in this camp say about you? That you were the first one to be merely 'cracked' rather than truly 'broken' the first one who my 'father' would have accepted and allowed in to live in his estate?" She wanted to know.

Akanga straightened slightly and puffed out his chest.

"I am Diosamblet's greatest creation, because I am a better man and a better animal than he. I will not allow him to victimize this island any longer. I would sooner be cast out of any 'paradise' he offered and live as a wild beast with my kin who he has both created and rejected. " Akanga answered.

Delphi slowly shifted her tongue around in her mouth.

"I think I'm tired of dealing with beasts who manage to look human on the outside. Do you like to swim Akanga?" The question clearly took the leader of the rebelling broken ones by surprise.

"I'm a lion, not a tiger." He answered, and Delphi knew enough about form her books to understand what he meant.

"It doesn't matter. I'm going to teach you." She declared with a confidence that surprised even her.

XXX XXX XXX

After Akanga was done taking care of personal matters he gathered together his host including its seven newest members and they struck out back towards Markov's estate.

"If we march to war, we should have some music." Alexander noted his single green eye turning in James' direction.

Almost instantly the red haired werecat produced the exact same harmonica he'd used back on board the Sunset Empires from some pocket or other of his jacket. He blew into it, a great storm of music emerged.

He drew his lips away from it and the music continued, it sounded as if over a dozen loots were all being strummed with ferocious energy as he started to sing.

"Time has worn the soldiers down, marched for many miles. From the northern land so cursed, time to make a stand! The Dame has scorched her nation's land, nothing to be found! Hunger grasp the soldier's heart, several thousand strong!" He belted out the words with burning passion, and little else.

"Cheerful song you got there whiskers." Cal interrupted him though the appellation was perhaps a touch lacking its usual zing given how many broken ones of feline stock marched in the group's wake.

Either way the music issuing from the werecat's harmonica terminated with abrupt suddenness.

"Well of course it starts out depressing, we were being invaded! It gets better though, and Mirri does a great Jacqueline!" James promised, his words suggesting that there was no higher honor he could possibly offer to the vampire's mezzo soprano.

"Either way, I was hoping for something either a bit more appropriate for our situation, or at the very least more generic." Alexander insisted.

James' hat drew a closer to his head as his ears drooped.

"If you insist Alex. Lets see.. something less a bit more appropriate..." He pondered that particular quandary for almost a few minute, before he snapped his fingers and blew into his harmonica again.

He held it passively in one gloved paw as from it came forth a raucous melody assisted by the sounds of some instrument that rested most unnaturally upon the ears. It was of a nature somewhat similar to a harmonica but far louder, stronger, and more high pitched as well.

There was an almost... feral air about the sounds that unfamiliar instrument was making. Before anyone present had a chance to more fully comprehend the strange sound, James broke into song once more. As always he sung with the voice of one who believed that raw energy and exuberance can make a fitting substitute for talent. To his credit, in this particular case, among the broken ones it actually almost did.

"They built this island paradise for us of hoof and paw.  
>To live together as equals before the jungle's law.<br>But we were chewed and spat out broken by his evil maw,  
>Until our wounds are mended by the wolf they call D-Claw!"<p>

James Firecat announced triumphantly.

Then his ears suddenly pressed back against his head once more as he turned to face the leonine leader of the broken ones.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't think of anything that rhymes with 'Akanga' so..." He pointed out with a helpless shrug of his shoulders.

True enough the leader of the island's revolution had looked quite incensed at the conclusion of the werecat's song.

His anger however was, if not completely banished, at least diminished by the earnest of James' comments.

If nothing else, the simple four line refrain was easy enough to remember that it was soon racing up and down the line of broken ones marching off to lay siege to Frantisek Markov's estate.

End Chapter

Chapter 13 comments: Sorry for the info dump on Delphi's back story, there really is just no proper way that I could figure out how to work out the fact that she's actually a Dolphin broken one into the story in any way that felt natural short of... well I'll save that for later. (For what it's worth the adventure itself fails to make it obvious/explain her status to the party also so it's a flaw inherent in the material if you ask me)

Likewise I wish the adventure would establish a more clear time line, but I'm deciding to go with the interpretation that Akanga came before Felix, Delphi or Orson (we do know those three were created in exactly that order but given that Orson was probably a full grown bear when we went under the knife, thus he is still older than Delphi despite having been human for less time... and hopefully the prior sentence didn't cause any of you to go cross-eyed.

The first song James is playing is a modified version of Poltava by Sabaton (that's right you get Sabaton references in and out of universe with this chapter! Just wait till you get to the last Monster Party book, I will f**king have every chapter end with a full length Ravenloft version of a Sabaton song, see if I don't!) which you can see/hear here watch?v=M65mswPJN80 though James is probably playing/prefers the Nightcore cover here watch?v=lwM7lzIIl0Y because hey faster equals better, right?

In our world its a song about the battle between Russian and Swedish forces that took place near the town of the same name in 1709. In Ravenloft the song is probably named "Richemulot" (hey three syllables, it fits) and would have been about the Borderland's War of 716 and Falkovnia's first invasion of Richemulot. Or hell it could be the Executioner's Campaign and their second invasion in 724, there's so pathetically little canon information on either one that you can more or less make it up as you go along.

Either way, since details about the conflict are so sparse when it comes to Richemulot, as I've already said in the general form, I'm going to choose to believe that Jacqueline Renier played a major part in Richemulot's victory (either by giving speeches to raise moral or getting her wererat on and killing Falkovnians, or both, pick whichever answer you like best) thus helping explain why she rose to power when her Grandfather died despite the fact that her own mother was still alive at that point, and why the human citizens of Richemulot look upon her so favorably.

Jacqueline probably saw to it that the song becoming the national anthem (and if Richemulot didn't have a national anthem before then so much the better (spreading a sense of nationalism in Richemulot is one of her chief goals after all so establishing a national anthem is right up her alley)) shortly after her grandfather's ACCIDENTAL death (Jacqueline says it was an accident and are you going to be so crass as to doubt Le Grande Dame?), because having a national anthem about the gigantic ass kicking you handed out to your nation's greatest national rival/threat is the kind of thing that would appeal to someone as egocentric as Jacqueline.

The second song he plays you really shouldn't need me to point out, but if you somehow didn't realize it, is a modified version of "Girl They Call Fitzroy" from Bioshock Infinite which, and this may just be my own Celtic background speaking, is a great song that sadly is about three verses too short. The strange instrumental sound is of course a bagpipe (those are probably from Mordent in Ravenloft so it is none too surprising that James might have a passing familiarity with them (Mordent borders and always has had good relations with Richemulot) which is a great instrument for A: being heard over the din of battle and B: convincing your own soldiers to advance if only to get further away from it...


	14. Chapter 14

Monster Party

Book 1: I hunt, therefore I am!

Final Chapter: Brave men long way from home, few are the chosen ones, sent to the sky to die!

The march back to Markov's estate took a while longer than the panicked flight from it had. Akanga was far from a stickler for speed since he wanted to give his rag tag broken one army a night to sleep before battle anyway.

James ended up working with the select group of Akanga's cat based broken ones to help start the necessary fires (and establish a fire break to make sure they didn't get out of control) that would clear the field for the next days battle.

The others made what preparations they could, Mirri waiting patiently by her coffin for his return.

Cal counted bullets, and reflected on what few potions he still had left while Devi helped him and the pair compared their potions and artifacts wondering which might prove useful.

Florence called forth another wooden quarterstaff from the jungle to arm herself with, then she started growing vines and flowers from the trees, gently plucking/pulling them and distributing them among the broken ones. The coming battle would be hard enough on its own, best to make sure they didn't end up to mistaking broken one who served Akanga for those who served Markov or vice versa.

Alexander for his part gazed out into the darkness and contemplated where exactly Markov might have hidden Wolf Claw, and what he'd do to the Darklord once he got it back.

XXX XXX XXX

"Diosamblet your ruination is at hand! Surrender and I will spare even your most faithful followers, resist, and all who hail your name shall perish beneath my claws!" Roared Akanga as he stood less than twenty feet from the palisade which still surrounded Markov's estate.

To the surprise of his half a dozen companions Frantisek Markov chose to answer the taunt in person, opening up the door to his foyer and lumbering out.

He had cast aside the outfit he wore when they had first met him on the beach, instead only a simple butcher's apron adorned his body.

"Do you truly think that you can defeat the one who created you Akanga? You and pitiful army, you might as well bark at the moon for you will hurt it sooner than me! Your every slight will be repaid a thousand fold, and before this day is through you shall see just how invincible I truly am!" The Darklord bellowed in rage.

"This is yours isn't it Markov?" Alexander interjected, as from a pocket of his black outfit he pulled out the scalpel that had been jammed into his shoulder.

He saw the Darklord's eyes focus on it for a moment, and then he acted.

An instrument designed to heal turned to the purpose of giving pain shattered beneath his hands and fell in pieces.

He needed no further words.

Markov likewise now seemed quite fed up with posturing.

"Rise up true sons and daughters of Markovia! Rise up and crush these fools who would dare to stand against your god!" He screamed in rage.

A moment later his voice was echoed by others.

A huge force of broken ones that had somehow managed to conceal itself within the ashes left behind from last night's infernos rose up and immediately fell upon Akanga's followers.

"Tell me 'Lion King', what will you do now?" Chortled the Darklord with wicked glee.

"The army you brought with you to attack is itself attacked while the man you hate above all others stands before you. Will you try and force your way to me an achieve your vengeance or will you forgo what you have desired for so long to help your pathetic rabble before they become truly broken?" Frantisek Markov demanded.

"Neither." Akanga answered abruptly.

BLAM!

It was a near perfect shot, Phoenix's bullet took Markov squarely in the throat, and as blood splattered the porch he fell back against his estate.

As he did so however his body began to twist and transform passing between gorilla, ape, monkey, and various other near human forms. As it did so the wound Cal's rifle had dealt him faded away until he eventually returned to gorilla with only the nearby blood splatter hinting how his body had been torn.

"Fools, I am Diosamblet, I am eternal, no assassin's bolt can strike me down!" Markov boasted.

"So long as he's free to change shape he can probably heal faster can I hurt him..." Cal muttered dourly as he worked Phoenix's bolt to reload the weapon.

"So be it, he will perish upon my claws yet. False God, I will show you how a true king protects his pride!" Akanga vowed, and then he turned his back on the estate and started racing back towards his followers.

"We need to retreat this isn't a battle it's a massacre!" Florence prompted as she managed to barely keep pace with the enraged lion broken one.

"Right now my pride is massacred, but massacres itself in turn. To bare our back to the enemy would only make things worse." Akanga insisted.

As they raced forward three large broken ones of gorilla stock rose up to challenge them.

Akanga would not be deterred by the odds or the greater size of his foe. He leaped through the air and barreled into one of them, using momentum in place of mass to knock his foe to the ground all the same.

His clawed hands and feet alike raked at the gorilla's flesh as he sought to rip and tear until there was nothing left. The second and third members of the group moved forward to try and free their companion, but Alexander was there to shield Akanga from one of them.

As the huge hairy arm came down to seize hold of Akanga's fury form a simply human one rose up to challenge it. The broken one was shocked to discover that within his seemingly human frame Alexander Diamondclaw held the raw strength to oppose its.

Before the gorilla could turn itself fully to the purpose of attacking Alexander he jumped into the air, while still holding onto the beast's arm with one hand. He used that grip as a focusing point to help him spin about in midair and deliver a most decisive kick to the side of broken one's head. Its skull shattered beneath the force of Alexander's blow and its body slumped in death.

As for the final one, Devi's flail managed to temporarily immobilize one of its arms, James' knives sliced at the other while Mirri jumped on its back, all so that it would hold steady enough for Cal Wright to line up another shot.

BLAM!

That trio of foes dealt with they pressed on.

Up ahead of them now was a swirling mindless melee that was less a battle and more of an oversized brawl.

Some of Akanga's followers had swords or other weapons but many were forced to make do with nothing but their claws and teeth, while Markov's minions were similarly armed. Neither strength nor skill played much part in determining who would die and who would live, broken one after broken one was dispatched in the process of slaying one foe, and the dispatcher was frequently slain shortly after as well.

"We need to retreat." Florence insisted yet again.

"My pride is no human army. If I order a retreat it will become a route. Only a miracle could keep them from being slaughtered. If they must die then let them sell their lives a dearly as possible. Retreat is not an option!" Akanga growled.

"Order them to fall back and you will have your miracle." Florence promised.

Akanga was about to snarl something at the dryad, then he looked deeply into the her eyes.

By the time he looked away he had made up his mind.

"Members of my pride to me, we will fight through them and back to shelter of the forest!" Akanga roared.

Then he threw himself into the battle with unmatched ferocity. Alexander, James, Mirri and Devi also did what they could to try and establish even temporarily some distance between those broken ones wearing flowers or vines and those without.

Cal Wright though was only too happy to give the battle as large a berth as possible, letting loose with the occasional round whenever a target presented itself.

Slowly but surely Akanga's followers were pushed back and one after another they began to take flight. Eventually just as their leader had predicted the retreat became a full fledged route as Akanga, Alexander Diamondclaw, Cal Wright, James Firecat, Mirri Catwarrior, and Devi Skye joined them in fleeing into what remained of the lush jungle.

Only Florence Bastien stayed behind, standing just inside the shade of the section of trees too far away from the palisade to have been burnt.

One lone woman stood between Markov's army of broken ones and those they intended to pursue to complete and utter destruction.

"You are going to stop this and surrender to me right now." She spoke as if she was addressing a group of disobedient school children.

The bear broken one who was leading the charge disagreed and drove his sword through Florence's stomach.

The dryad fell to the ground, practically pinned in place in place by the blade. A thick golden substance leaked from the wound itself and also from the corner of her mouth.

The broken one did not even bother to retrieve its weapon, it just proceeded to step over Florence, intent on continuing the pursuit of Akanga's seemly shattered army.

Except that as it moved forward suddenly something grabbed one of its legs.

"Still... so human..." Florence gasped.

There was a soft, almost soothing sound, easy to miss among the roars of broken ones, the screams of the dying and the general cacophony of the battlefield. With every passing second the sound grew louder however, the gentle yet inescapable rustle of moving vegetation.

A green vine that a moment ago had lain passively upon a tree suddenly lashed, wrapping itself around the blade buried in Florence's belly. One quick tug promptly pulled it free.

"You chose to gamble with your life... but the house always wins." Florence insisted as she rose to her feet once more.

The vine which had removed the sword now plunged itself into Florence's chest and in somehow... became part of her.

The wound in her chest remained still open, but no more fluid came forth. Instead, to look into the hole in her body was to look into a mass of vines which twisted and writhed within her like a pile of snakes.  
>"Nature, always, wins." She told the broken one as a storm of thorny vines suddenly burst from her stomach.<p>

They wrapped around her fists like spiked gauntlets and in one smooth motion her hands seized the broken one's head. Her fingers began to lengthen and twist as they grew harder and sharper.

She let go scant seconds later and the bear broken one now had a quite thoroughly skull perforated.

"I am not this paltry thing of twigs and and sap which stands before you. I am an avatar of the Green itself!" She warned the other broken ones who had been momentarily halted by her transformation.

After being unmanned for a moment they continued to press forward all the same and Florence's arms began to extend outwards loosing all semblance of humanity in the process.

Each of what had once been her fingers lashed out transforming into a living lasso that sought to ensnare a broken one and strangle the life from it if thorns alone did not end them first.

The broken ones would not fall back and rushing into battle was all they knew of tactics. Whatever foe they faced they had numbers on their side, didn't they?

They didn't.

Florence Bastien was a dryad, Florence Bastien was a worshiper of nature, Florence Bastien was a forest unto herself.

One after another broken ones found themselves being tripped upon twisting vines that suddenly littered the forest's floor, a fall would seem to be a certain death sentence either impaling themselves upon the newly grown thorns or being crushed by the vines themselves. Those who moved more slowly or were more sure footed did little better, strands of animate vegetation now seemed to drape every tree, readily following their movements, and reaching out to end them.

"It brings me no joy to do this. Know that Mother Gaia still loves you. Know that your sisters the trees still love you..." Florence declared as she swung an arm like a living whip coated with razor sharp blades.

It latched around the throat of an unfortunate creature that might have once been some kind of horse.

"Just as I know deep down you still love them." She stated even as her thorns inflicted countless cuts and pulverized the creature's neck.

"Your split blood will be drunk by their roots. Your decomposing flesh will nurture their soil." She announced in a voice devoid of both malice and pity.

A moment later a monkey broken one that had somehow avoided the attention of both her and her arboreal assistants dropped from the canopy overhead.

It had a knife gripped tightly in both hands and plunged it into the back of Florence's head before yanking it out to stab again.

That was a mistake.

Almost as soon as the blade was withdrawn still more vines erupted from the wound and like living lances they pieced the broken one's skin and grew longer and longer until they slammed it against the trunk of a nearby tree.

"You can't kill a vegetable by stabbing it in the head." Florence informed her foe as another vine plunged straight through the skull of the monkey broken one.

"Too many mistake their sadism, their hatred, for strength. They confuse being vicious with being ruthless. They believe that because they can inflict pain without need that they perch unshakably atop the food chain.

They forget that the chain binds them all the same, and no creature alive or undead can ever be more amoral than nature itself.

I am the chaff, I am the wheat, I am the harvest, you will reap what you have sown." Florence promised.

XXX XXX XXX

The second phase of the battle did not last long after that.

XXX XXX XXX

Alexander casually crushed the head of an already dead broken one beneath his boot.

"Florence Bastien, you are just so wonderfully full of miracles." He declared with a smile.

Florence pressed one hand against the wound in her stomach and another against the one on the back of her head and slowly both began to close over.

"I'm simply doing what I can to speak for nature. At this particular moment its telling me that the time has come for vigorous applications of your feet to Frantisek Markov's body. Preferably until his colon has been emptied by the process." She informed him.

Alexander knelt before her and gently kissed the back of her right hand.

"Only you can make a request to kick the s**t out of someone sound quite so noble. Don't worry, Markov will never get a chance to create another broken one once I'm done with him." Alexander vowed.

"I guarantee it..." Akanga rumbled.

When it had turned out that no force of Markov's supporters were still following them the lion broken one had manged to rally most of his army, and they were ready to have another go at the darklord's estate. In fact, given that he had stopped to converse with Alexander and Florence some of them had managed to get ahead of them.

Not that they were having much luck.

Florence might have broken the back (along with the moral, and the spines...) of the force that Markov had committed offensively, but he still had a fair sized force of broken ones clustered about the palisade walls which surrounded his estate.

The walls were weakest/most likely to be breached at the gate which was designed be easily opened after all, but it was defended by Markov's two greatest creations.

For once Orson's eyes wide open and he was towered over the battlefield like a titan.

"For Diosamblet! Those who would dare stand against all that is holy should know Diosamblet shall have no mercy on your souls, nor I for you bodies! Diosamblet shall be victorious this day! Diosamblet shall never fall!" He bellowed as he'd already managed to grab and crush the life out of half a dozen broken ones who had foolishly come near him.

It seemed as though nothing could phase him, he'd already been shot twice by Cal, but in his righteous rage did not notice the wounds. Felix helped support his fellow servant by tossing out a series of knives which seemed to have been coated with some kind of deadly poison.

At least that was how it was going until Akanga and Alexander emerged from the woods. When the lion lord made his presence visible once more the battle took another unexpected turn.

THAWCK!

THWACK!

"FOR DIOSAMBLET... for... dios... amblet..." Orson's mighty voice began to wavier as deadly poison spread through his veins from the pair of daggers suddenly buried in his back.

"For Akanga, you stupid brainless bear!" Felix hissed.

Orson gazed up at his killer through eyes that simply could not comprehend what had been done to him. He struggled to bring his arms up to throttle Felix as one last act of defiance but the red clad 'man' kicked his former companion hard in the stomach and Orson collapsed, his own body ironically supplying the force needed to push gate open, clearing the way for Akanga's invading army.

Felix promptly dropped to one knee and remaining silent and unmoving as broken ones raced past him.

He took no further actions until Alexander and Akanga joined the steadily swelling force that was funneling through the breach in Markov's defenses.

"I am as ever your faithful servant Lion King." He declared reverently.

Akanga simply laughed however.

"For your actions today, you shall be my duke, but never forget, I know your true nature far better than the False God." Akanga promised.

Florence having no wish for further needless suffering took the time to call forth and twist a vine around Felix's head to mark his support for Akanga.

Now it was the turn for those broken ones who served Markov to suffer retreat bordering upon route.

With the gate to palisade thrown wide open those who defended from behind its walls had no choice but to try and seek shelter inside estate proper lest they be encircled and cut off from one another. The well manicured lawn of Markov's home was soon soaked red in many places as Akanga's followers offered no more in the way of quarter than they had been shown earlier that day.

Some of Diosamblet's followers managed to regroup inside the foyer itself, hiding behind its barred door and firing crossbows out through newly made murder holes.

"Florence I hate to request your talents again so soon but..." Alexander left his comment hang uncompleted and the dryad nodded.

"My sisters in sap will not have their death's so cruelly mocked." She promised.

Florence carefully approached the door diagonally so as not to open herself up to crossbow fire while Cal blasted away at the door from behind the palisade doing what he could to force the broken ones to keep their heads down. Then she pressed a hand against one section of Markov's estate.

"Forgive me..." She half whispered half whimpered as black tendrils began to race out from her fingers.

They shot through the wood just as surely as poison had raced through Orson's veins mere minutes before. Their effect was no less dramatic, wherever the black veins went wood that once been strong and firm twisted and warped with truly astonishing speed. Cracks formed and splintered as wood turned into mulch in the blink of an eye.

The door itself fell apart under its own weight revealing its defenders. They raised newly loaded crossbows and drew a bead on the dryad.

"I am done compromising, let us rot before slavery in the service of evil!" Florence exclaimed, and the crossbows promptly exploded their owners hands wicked splinters blinding eyes and piercing skin.

With the barrier broken a wave of Akanga's followers rushed forward weapons or paws held high.

No matter how unusual the combatants in this battle, if there is one iron clad rule of warfare it is this; when the besiegers have breached their foe's walls and secured a foothold on the other side of them... slaughter is the inevitable result.

With the fall of the foyer door Akanga's army now poured into Markov's home itself. All within who did not bear the newly devised symbol of loyalty to the Lion King were put to the sword, claw, or jaw.

Only one thing was able to hold them at bay, the metal door to Frantisek Markov's laboratory.

Not just the door itself was metal either, Markov has constructed the walls around the laboratory of the same material as well. Truly if the estate was a castle, then they his laboratory was its innermost keep.

Alexander glowered at the door, Wolf Claw probably could have made short work of it but for now other steps would have to be taken.

"Florence, help our new friends find or make a batter ram. Mirri, go pay our host a visit and see if you can't keep him company for a while." He instructed.

Mirri nodded and slowly ran a gloved hand along the metal door searching for the tiny gap that she new had to be there.

"Wish me luck Kitten, something tells me he's not going to be in a painting kind of mood." The vampiress muttered and then her body began to fade away into a cloud of white mist that gently flowered through the countless tiny air holes in the door.

XXX XXX XXX

"Betrayal, always betrayal!" Screamed Frantisek Markov as the mist began to flow in his laboratory.

"Ludmilla, Akanga, Felix, Delphi, and now you Miriam, betrayal is ever to be my fate, and those who reject divinity must suffer my wrath!" He boasted.

Then however his voice backed away from ranting madness and instead he spoke with a terrible sincerity.

"Why do you join the ranks of those who seek to undermine me Miriam? You could have been my queen." He practically whispered.

"A queen? You could have made me a queen?" Mirri scoffed as she walked through the laboratory.

"I was Miriam Kantrar, first daughter of a noble house. I could have been have been a 'queen' a ruler of men while I still alive. It didn't agree with me then, and it doesn't agree with me now, do you now why?" Before Markov got a chance to answer Mirri kept right on going.

"The problem with being a queen is that your prestige is directly tied to how many servants you have, your beauty to how many maids, your power to how large your army. You may give the orders, but the problem is that other people need to be there for you to give them to orders to.

Even worse, you have to at least pretend to care about them. You see Markov, I could never really get the hang of caring about others. I HATE the idea needing others to define myself.

You want to know what's better than being a queen? Being a monster!" To prove her point she slammed a clenched fist into one of Markov's operating tables, striking with enough force to leave a noticeable crack in it.

"All this power, and it's all mine and no one else's! Leave me skyclad and alone in the middle of some new domain and I am still a force to be reckoned with. My power is no longer defined by others, it is my own!

For hundreds of years I was able to move from one town to another, sating my hunger and then departing before the fools had any clue as to the shape of the one who preyed upon them. I am the boogiewoman, here one day, gone the next, and only a trail of crimson droplets to mark my passage.

Why should I let myself be bound to one place? Why should I be forced to accept obligations that come with rulership? I will take my 'tax' of blood and give them nothing but the dust stirred by my passing!" Mirri decreed.

Markov began to flex his large powerful fingers as he measured up his opponent.

"Bah if you will not be my queen then you shall be my next patient. It will be... interesting to see what I can do with a subject like you..." He promised her.

The raven haired vampire just flashed him an insolent smile in response to his words.

"It's cute that you think I'm here to fight you..." A moment later it felt like almost the entire room shook as a battering ram was slammed into the metal door.

"There are so many who have a much more personal claim to your head Markov, I'm just here for what is mine. Besides... I can't stand the taste of animal blood." Thus with a wicked gleam in her blood red eyes Mirri delivered a verbal coup de grâce that sure enough reduced Frantisek Markov to mindlessly spluttering with rage.

By the time he regained any measure of self control his guest already had all she wanted having snatched up a simple object he'd hung on the wall of his laboratory.

"To think, if you hadn't turned on us I might have even let you keep this..." She admitted before transforming into wisps of alabaster mist carrying off the painting of an albino lioness with her.

XXX XXX XXX

The doors to the laboratory flew off their hinges, finally succumbing to the fallen tree turned battering ram.

"Blind beasts, I am Diosamblet, I am the Bringer of Pain, I am the God who walks!" Fransitek Markov bellowed at the group of adventures and broken ones who stood before him.

"Surround yourself with empty titles all you wish. Your army has been scattered, your most trusted followers have been suborned or slain, your sanctuary has been breached. There is only one step left to this hunt, the kill." Akanga announced fangs gleaming.

"Fools. Broken pathetic fools. You think that you have driven me here? I have lured you to this place, and now you will see just how truly powerful I am, for I AM MARKOVIA!" As Markov spoke countless bodies in various stages of dissection which littered his lab began to twitch and wriggle about.

They started to flow forward in an undulating horrifying wave of human and animal flesh. These things were not zombies, they were pure animated flesh, severed hands skittered forward like some sort of bizarre insect and intestines wriggled along the ground like sickly snakes.

Akanga's followers let loose with a collection of animal cries in horror unable to stand in the face of a sight that would have unmanned many proper soldiers let alone still half wild broken ones. The wave of living flesh was not the only thing to answer Markov's call either.

From behind them Orson staggered into battle once more, either he had somehow managed to overcome the venom of Felix's blade or under the touch of Markov's foul power even death could not end his service. He tossed aside retreating broken ones with ease, and hurled himself atop Alexander, as Akanga found himself fighting tooth and claw against Markov's animated leftovers that were often little more than teeth and claws.

With the revolution's two leaders temporarily subdued and his wave of revolting reanimated remnants Markov seemed safe and certain to drive the opposing broken ones from his laboratory if not his entire estate.

Except that if there was ever one lesson to take to heart in Markovia, it was that appearances were deceiving.

From amid the ranks of Akanga and Alexander's followers came a crimson blur.

In one single bound it sought to catapult itself over the rolling of wave of ferocious flesh. One poor creature's small intestine attempted to restrain this new arrival by acting like a macabre lasso, but claws flashed and it was cut to ribbons.

A ruby red creature that was neither man nor beast had cleared the moat of living flesh that Markov had erected as his final defense.

"I heard you like to vivisect cats and people..." Growled James Firecat.

The words were warped and awkward as always, but Markovia was no stranger to those who spoke language of humans with the mouths of a beasts.

"How would you like it... if a catperson vivisected you...?" James hissed raising his front legs off the ground.

They were not true claws at the end of his fingers, certainly they seemed to be all but grafted in place and quite unretractable. On the other paw, it was unlikely that James had much intention of retracting his them any time soon.

"Foul felines, you vex me at ever turn!" Markov bellowed beating his hands on his chest like an actual enraged gorilla.

"They claim that one must have silver to do away with werebeasts, but I imagine that ripping your head from your scrawny neck will do the job all the same." The Darklord decided before wadding forward into battle, not even bothering to try and wield any of the surgical instruments that lay scattered around the room.

Both combatants were forgoing any sort of tool, determined to instead do resolve their dispute with only their own bodies.

Once again such appearances were deceiving however, as Markov aimed a bone breaking blow at James, the werecat skillfully slid to the side, and had taken care to position himself in front of the Table of Life. Fransitek's fist slammed full force into the artifact which he had bolted to the ground and his animal ferocity did no more to harm the table than Alexander's blade.

In fact there was an audible sound of... well something going wrong in the Darklord's fist as a result of the impact.

A moment later James rushed forward and leaped over the distracted Darklord and lashed out with his claws as he sailed past. Markov's simian fur granted him some resilience against those claws, but not enough, James Firecat's claws had dealt wicked wounds to men in full platemail in the past.

For the moment Markov's sheer size did more to (comparatively) limit the damage dealt by the werecat's attacks than anything else. Screaming in rage he grabbed the Table of Life and heaved. The bolts popped loose as he ripped the ancient artifact up off the floor and turned to toss it at his feline foe.  
>James Firecat figured that two could play that particular game, though his weapon of choice was a a single small glass jar he scooped up off of a table holding many that looked just like it.<p>

The Table of Life whistled through the air and James tossed the jar upwards. A moment later his form contorted and shrunk with unnatural quickness, as he became only a large housecat, and Markov's projectile passed by without scratching a whisker.

Impressively James reverted back to his far more deadly hybrid form in time not only to catch the jar, but also turn its falling momentum to his advantage as after one wild windmill motion he let it fly straight at its owner's chest.

Unable to modify his form as quickly as James could, and too enraged to properly fear such a small thing James' weapon struck home and shattered against the darklord's chest.

"Hey Markov... do those rags smell like ether to you?" James uttered with the closest thing to whimsical delight a a bestial mix of cat and man could produce.

From underneath Orson's bulk it was possible to hear Alexander Diamondclaw growling in discontent, though seemingly more at his companion's sense of humor than any physical distress.

Sure enough, wads of ether soaked cotton now clung to Markov's furry chest, the brain deadening chemical coating them wafting up into Fransitek's face. This drew forth another inarticulate cry of rage as Markov began to grab and toss aside the rags as quickly as he could not caring where they ended up.

James danced in claws raised ready to do battle once more.

Markov took a wild swing at Jame but despite his best efforts he was still somewhat woozy from having the ether fumes waft up into his face, and James caught the darklord's arm in a both of his own before executing a prompt over the shoulder flip and that tossed Markov clear across the room.

XXX XXX XXX

As he landed in a disheveled heap Markov's body began to wither and shrink, he'd had enough of this fight.

Discretion was the better part of valor, at heart he was a man of science not the battlefield after all. Luckily being a man of science he'd taken time to make preparations for an event like this one.

He had a carefully constructed bolt hole build into his laboratory, all he needed to was scuttle through it and he'd emerge outside just beyond the edges of the fallen palisade, from there he could turn into an eagle, owl or some other flight capable creature and none of these fools would be able to catch him then!

All Fransitek Markov needed to do to be certain of getting away was retreat through the mouse-hole sized opening that was luckily located all but directly behind him! His body promptly began to transform into a rat with a to scale human head.

He did an abrupt about face and scuttled for the rat hole. Before he was completely through it a huge paw came down and pinned his tail to the ground.

Well no matter, the rest of his body was already inside the hole. All he had to do was transform into something with no tail and he'd home free...

Except in hybrid form James Firecat's "paws" still possessed enough human dexterity to close around a rat's tail... and tug.

Markov was dragged from his escape tunnel squeaking with fear and found himself being dangled in the air gazing into a pair of pitiless brown eyes.

"Sic, semper, rattus..." A voice so like that of his broken ones, and yet filled to the brim with hatred instead of awe.

He was being held close enough the creature's teeth that its breath fell upon him with a terrible warmth.  
>WHAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!<p>

James Firecat's arm descended with the finality of a guillotine's blade.

CRACK!

Like so many rodents before him Frantisek Markov's spine was shattered by the strength of the werecat's paws. The darklord's body went limp and James stood up transforming back to his fully human form, taking a moment to straighten the hat that only now came back into being.

"Heh, hehehehehehehe ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" James clutched his sides suddenly struck by a fit of laughter that brought him to his knees in convulsions.

"Mirri, look, I finally did it! I finally caught a rat on this stupid island fair and square!" He wheezed.

Mirri Catwarrior was far from the only one present who buried her face in the nearest appendage she could find.

End Chapter

Chapter 14/Final Chapter Author Notes: Oh boy oh boy do I have a lot to say about this chapter. So lets break it down.

First the "Final" in Final Chapter is a bit of a lie, there will be an epilogue to this book just like to all other Monster Party books which will wrap up the situation/show how our protagonists head off to their next adventure. Also, hey if you hadn't figured it out yet now you finally know what happened to that poor rat in the very first chapter! Foreshadowing!

Second, I would get tired of using Sabaton lyrics for these chapter opening titles, but given that our protagonists are just about one and all estranged from their own homelands for various reasons and now fighting in Akanga's war/revolution the use of their song Aces In Exile (a song about the non British airmen who fought to defend England during the Battle of Britain) fit as perfectly as anything else I could possibly think of. Also, last time I checked there are no Ravenloft modules that involve dog fighting on dragon/griffin/pegasi back so I doubt I'm going to find another situation where the song is more applicable.

Third of all lets talk about how I'm going to be handling Darklords and other Big Bad Evil Guys in this story. I know it's a well worn staple of D&D that the end of an adventure typically involves 4-6 characters fighting against one much more powerful character, and Ravenloft is no exception to this rule. That works fine in a RPG where it allows everyone to pitch in and if you fought multiple enemies of power similar to your own how the fight resolved might be entirely decided by who could focus their attacks more effectively and knock out one member at a time rather spreading damage around. Also which group is smart enough to gank the mage.

So that kind of set up makes perfect sense in a RPG, but it's really, really hard (okay I find it really really hard) to write a fight scene where six people gang up on one person of similar size and make it interesting. So yes, Darklord fights will frequently be resolved one on one with their minions/powers keeping the rest of the group from getting involved. It's more dramatic that way, and it makes for less cluttered final fight scenes.

So yes James just defeated a Darklord in a one on one fight, but keep in mind Markov is not one of those Darklords who is supposed to be a combat monster who can thrash the entire party, he's Josef Mengele not Otto Skorzeny.

Also in the back of my head I keep thinking there was some Ravenloft material that said Frantisek Markov was a commoner, if so well write your own housecat versus commoner joke, they're all good.

Also for those of you who were wondering about James dodging the Table of Life by transforming, then doing it again in order to catch the ether bottle there's a perfectly in system explanation. Transforming is normally a standard action for a lycanthrope, but James took five levels of Warshaper thus gaining the Flashmorph ability reduces it to a move equivalent action followed by taking Quick Change feat (or he took Quick Change first no real difference) which reduces how long it takes again, making it a free action. This is very silly (and very cinematic) but its by no means a game or story breaking power, especially compared to what I'm about to talk about next...

Now that we have that out of the way, it should be noted that unlike Alexander turning into a wolf creature, you really should not be surprised by Florence going all Swamp Thing (Swamp Thing, you are amazing!) on the Broken Ones. She's a druid in in D&D, she has special abilities that are more powerful than some people's entire classes!

In this particular case, after being stabbed and taking some damage she used wild shape (being a dryad all of Florence's wild shapes are going to be plant based, or you can just assume she's at least 12th level when druids get the ability to wild shape into plants anyway) which healed one point of damage per level and turned her into... okay in this case her transformation wasn't so much a D&D monster as "Monster of God" Alexander Anderson from Hellsing (a mass of thorns/vines in a vaguely human shape) which doesn't really have a D&D equivalent (lets assume shambling mound, though I'm letting her keep speaking for cinematic effect though it's hardly surprising/unreasonable to think Florence would have a Pearl of Speech).

Then she started laying down entangle (first level spell), briar web (second level), kelpstrand (second level), spike growth (third level for a druid), and wall of thorns (fifth level) to make getting close to her/moving about to all a very difficult and painful experience and whip of thorns (second level) to attack at range (or you can assume she started laying down all those AOE restraint spells behind her as soon as the others got clear). Granted while the others were actually fighting (IE while they were killing the Gorillas) that she was probably hitting herself with a "Freedom of Movement" (4th level) which let her move freely about the areas being overrun with vines while everyone else who have to make reflex save to move at even half speed, and then an air walk which would let her move about the area she cast spiked growth in without actually damaging herself, thus insuring she could rope a dope the f**k out of the broken ones (lets see you made one reflex save so you're not grabbed by the vines, but you're still at half speed, also you just failed the second reflex save so you're now at one quarter speed from walking over nature's caltrops, well enjoy trying to catch me, also don't forget you'll be taking1d4 damage for every five feet you move!).

Also, all of the above is vastly more complicated than it needs to be, she could have just gone Gandalf on their a**es with Fire Seeds and exploding acorns, but I felt this set up nicely captured the thematic sensation of how hopeless it should quickly become trying to fight a druid in the middle of a forest when you abruptly discover that in point of fact, you are trying to fight the entire forest.

Having turned herself into a plant based form of life (I'd say "creature" but is that really applicable in this case?) she's immune to critical hits and thus having a dagger driven into her skull fails to hurt more than having one in her elbow or shoulder.

This is pretty much all standard druid stuff though in theory I gave her some sort of AOE/multi-attack thorn whip to represent each of her finger becoming a whip (on the other hand that could just have been kelpstrand, and once they were grabbed by the kelpstrand the penalties being grappled brought with it (yes I know in RAW being grappled doesn't give you a reflex save penalty shut up house rules exist of situations like this) ensured they next got grabbed by the briar web effect which is in point of fact a blanket AOE damage each round to anyone who gets grabbed and fails to break free or remain perfectly still), and keep in mind she didn't even use/have an animal companion.

If she had one, it would probably be a treent (that's not by the core book legal but I'm pretty sure there are optional rules in some splatbook or other for having plant companions and then that treent would animate some extra trees as well (and that's how you turn one companion into three!) at which point Florence just wins at the action economy so very, very hard.

She broke down the door with a CGI intensive warp wood (second level) spell and then used another to take care of those crossbows. With rules as written you can't use warp wood to make wooden weapons splinter in such a way as to become dangerous to those who hold them of course. That said, given how little difference it makes in the grand scheme of things (once the door was mulched those guarding it were about to become very broken broken ones) why not make it a little showier than it would have been in "real life"?

So yeah Florence Bastien took Natural Spell (probably Greenbound Summoning if you can get that feat in Ravenloft), she knows how to win at being a druid, and that makes her a horrifying foe to face in combat, especially in a non urban environment. If this was tabletop it would be laughable just how much more powerful she was than the other five, in a more narrative driven setting she's just the best at AOEing multiple weak foes out of existence by turning terrain against them.

Next up, it's worth noting that Mirri's speech to Markov while accurate of how she sees herself is not necessarily accurate about anything else (when a chaotic evil character speaks truth is rarely on the menu, it is as true for our protagonists as anyone else)

Also, as for why she didn't end up becoming a Darklord herself prior to meeting the group, I have a firm belief that the Dark Powers take a "vampires gonna vamp" approach to vampires (and most other intelligent 'monsters' when it comes to Dark Powers checks. So stuff like feeding (which is normally going to be assault either unprovoked or grievous based on how much of their blood a vampire takes/how weak it leaves them) don't ping the meter.

To make a vampire take a dark powers check, they need to do something really REALLY nasty (basically act of ultimate darkness level evil or go home) like betraying your family or drinking blood from people and then spitting it out on the ground just cause you wanted them to die of exsanguination when you literally could not drink another drop.

I'm not making excuses for Mirri's behavior pre (and to a lesser degree post) meeting James, this is to me the only internally consistent way that Dark Powers could work without every vampire turning into a Darklord before they ceased to be a fledgling (seriously lets mathhammer this out, assume the vampire is feeding from strangers, so its only a 1% dark powers check, that's still a 1% powers check every day, with a 365 day long year they should fail three of them every year, even being generous they should be ready to become darklord's before they've spent ten years as a vampire from feeding alone. That's also leaving aside all the murder premeditated they commit by feeding on people till they die of exsanguination, (and it'd be assault grievous if they get drop to 0 or lower from feeding) if vampires rolled Dark Powers checks like humans they'd all be Darklords!), likewise lycanthropes need to do something worse than hunting and eating people for food (that will make them chaotic evil, or lawful evil in the case of wererats) but won't actually cause dark powers checks.

The above is the only reason I can explain why Richemulot and Verbrek haven't produced a pile of Darklords just from werecreatures gonna were.

That said, one of the fascinating thing about Mirri is that while there are a lot of characters like Elena Faith-Hold, Miko Miyazaki, Lord Soth (sorry I keep picking Paladins, they just make it so easy) or Gregory Zolnik or even Yagno Petrovna (there broke the pattern) who have seen themselves as much more heroic than they really are, as long as she is with James, Mirri is seeing herself as much more villainous than she really is, and not in an agnsty 'This is the skin of a killer!' kind of way.

Instead it's more like she's still a happy dues paying members of the guild of evil intelligent undead (local 296 non Darkon chapter, currently considering merger with Flesh Golems local 301 non Lamordian chapter) but would only be confused bordering on insulted if a Death Knight pointed out she hasn't killed anyone of the good alignment this entire quarter.

The villain who claims to by a hero (or used to be a hero and never realized when they crossed over) is a pretty well worn trope by this point. Mirri is the opposite, effectively hero who used to be a villain and has no idea that she's unintentionally crossed over to the side of the angels (she's still pings evil on the alignment meter, but hey so would Alucard from Hellsing that doesn't mean he isn't fighting people even wore than him) in action if not in mindset.

Finally lets talk about Felix. Yes his betrayal was not that heavily foreshadowed, but its also not that heavily foreshadowed in the book proper either. There was one major clue I left you guys though, throughout Alexander's entire interrogation/being prepped for "surgery" scene by Markov, the darklord never once comments on James being a werecat (and gee you think a guy who is interested in blending of human and animal might find that a promising topic of conversation) yet Akanga knew that Alexander had a cat themed shape-shifter among their ranks.

It's almost like if James showed off his hybrid form to Felix having caught a deer, and then brought the remains of that deer back to the estate with him Felix would be able to put two and two together, then he decided to tell his "Master' but not Markov... DUN DUN DUNNN!


	15. Chapter 15

Monster Party Book 1: I hunt therefore I am!

Epilogue: back to the meaning of life!

"I am the lord of Markovia, I am the land, I am the lord of MarkovIIIIIIIIIAAAAA!" The mantra trailed off into a scream of pain as Akanga buried the scalpel deeply into the misshapen creature's... Markov's failed attempts to shapeshift away his wounds had at this point left him so misshapen by this point discerning individual body parts was a bit tricky.

"Do not worry False God, was it not you yourself who told me that no cut is more painful than the first?" Akanga ruminated before seizing another scalpel and slamming through Markov forehead hard enough to shatter the blade in the process.

Strapped to the Table of Life Frantisek Markov could not die... but oh how he could suffer.

"What a shame, it would seem that such 'wisdom' was naught but another of your lies." Akanga reflected, a thin veneer of fake sympathy overlaying an ocean of schadenfreude.

Before continuing with his 'experiments' the new ruler of Markovia turned his attention to the other occupant of the room.

"You disprove?" He inquired given Alexander's painfully neutral expression.

"The Mists crave suffering, but not always of the virtuous. You will hear no argument from me that Markov hasn't earned his fate." Alexander promised.

"A wise choice. This island has seen enough bloodshed for one day. All the same, it is also to small for a pair of Alphas of our stature to share it. We were united against the False God, but sooner or later we will come to strife, it is only a matter of time." Akanga predicted a touch morosely.

"Believe me, there's nothing we'd like to do more than leave. Now that Markov is in no condition to summon up storms that's finally a possibility." Alexander admitted.

"Good, for as long as I have been Akanga, for as long as I have been broken, this island has been my home. If I were to leave it, I would be a freak, an outcast, a monster, but here in Markovia I am the Lion King.

You have the good fortune to be able to blend in among those who have not suffered the False God's ministrations. Make use of it and depart from this island within a paw's worth of days." Akanga instructed.

Alexander looked like he might be about to argue for a moment then decided against it.

"Just be careful with that thing, sooner or later a bunch of dead monks are going to show up wanting it back, mindless undead are not the most dangerous foes, but their tenacity is nearly unrivaled. Also, do try to make sure that Markov doesn't get free, I'd hate to think that the next unlucky group of people who get washed ashore on this island might have to go through this all over again." Alexander pointed out.

Akanga seized another scalpel in his furred hand,

"The False God shall not escape his punishment any time soon, you have my word on it." He vowed.

Alexander looked away before the blade came down, the sound alone was worth a thousand mental images.

XXX XXX XXX

"He was always... he was always so kind to me..." Delphi sobbed as she sat on her bed and clutched a small doll that Frantisek Markov had made for her when she'd been sick with some unknown illness in her arms.

"Evil isn't a strong thing of the heart or a smart thing of the mind, it's a weak thing of the stomach." A voice announced from the doorway. She turned and saw James Firecat standing there.

"What do you mean?" She asked, her lip quivering slightly.

Even though the battle was over, even though she had not needed to take any part in it, it still felt like somehow the conflict had left her wounded and maimed all the same.

James slowly strode into the room, looking for a place to rest. Seeing that Delphi already occupied her bed and it had no chairs (she did her studying in the library) he instead opted to rest upon the chest containing her dresses.

"My father always told me that hunger makes monsters of more men than malice. No one, not Mirri, not Markov, not even Cal wakes up one morning and just decides 'you know what, I think I'm going to see just how evil I can possibly be today! I bet I can kick half a dozen puppies before lunch, and then pinch coppers out of a blind beggars cup till dinner!'

The problem is that people hunger, and not always for something as simple as food. The don't try to fight the hunger, they don't try to find simple and harmless ways to sate it, they give into the hunger. Then, just as a fat man will start to need to eat more than a skinny one, the more you give into your hunger the greater it grows.

I can't say for certain what it was Markov hungered for.

Maybe it was something as simple as an endless row of 'patients' for him to practice his 'craft' upon. Maybe... maybe... very deep down... in the end... he just hungered to truly be human again. To be an ordinary person, with a family, with friends, neighbors, and a simple respectable job.

Except that he let his hunger drive him for so long that he was too much stomach with too little brain or heart. He couldn't remember what it meant to be human, couldn't bring himself to feel like those he didn't like or weren't useful to him were still people who mattered.

At the end of the day though like I said, evil isn't strong or smart, it can be beaten, will always be beaten if only people are truly willing to try. Markov might have wanted to be human, but he didn't want to make the effort that would come with it.

Still, I think, whatever remained of Frantisek Markov's true heart... it beat for you." He told her solemnly.

Delphi looked down at the doll again then over at James again.

"Is that really all there is to life? People, and the hungers that drive them? Are things really that simple, that... bestial?" She demanded wishing she could have found a different way to end the sentence.

James just shrugged.

"Nobody, nobody sane does things for no reason. Like I said, people hunger for things other than food. I hunger to make this world a better place than it already is. To strike down every diseased rat I can find before it manages to spread it's infection to the innocent.

I know I'll never succeed, the sewers are too big, the rats too numerous, but that doesn't matter, what matters is that I make a difference to every single person I managed to save. Evil is a thing born of hunger, but hunger itself is just that, hunger, without virtue or vice.

That... that's what my mother told me was the greatest gift she managed to give me. Not the fact that I can look like this and yet shrug of blows that would cripple a normal humans for life, not that the moon doesn't force me to transform, not that I can change my shape upon command... it's that I get to keep my memories, I get to stay me, I have a chance... just a chance mind you, to control my hunger rather than be controlled by it.

Just having a simple single chance to do the right thing, and refusing to squander it can make all the difference in the world." James paused and slowly unbuttoned his jacket revealing a pair of round freshly scabbed over wounds upon his neck.

"Do you wanna know how I got these scars?" He asked almost tenderly. Delphi nodded, spell bound, wondering what could possibly have managed to inflict such a lasting mark upon James without slaying him outright.

"Every night as the sun goes down, I'll crawl into Mirri's coffin and she'll drink blood from my neck.

I'm a lycanthrope, so I can afford to loose that blood and not have it even slow me down. So you see Delphi, every night I give Mirri the same chance that my mother gave me, a chance to listen to her heart instead of her stomach.

Mirri has such a beautiful heart... it's a crime the way her stomach tries to drown it out. I have been given the chance, and with my daily sacrifice I give her my blood so that it might flow to her heart and lend it strength to beat its loudest.

I'm speaking metaphorically of course, Mirri's dead, well undead, but either way you know her heart doesn't actually beat anymore, that tends to be the kind of thing that only living people's hearts do..." James began to ramble.

He didn't get any further because Delphi dropped her doll and practically flew across the room in order to wrap her arms around him and plant a firm kiss on his cheek and hug him deeply, relieved to realize that in truth he really was a prince masquerading as a beast and not the other way around.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven..." She suddenly heard a female voice counting off.

She let go of James by "three" and looked up into the smiling face of Mirri Catwarrior.

"Good choice." She noted with a slight shrug of her shoulders.

Delphi had a distinct impression that Mirri was very much listening to her stomach at the moment, that or she and James had very different impressions of what the vampire's heart was like. Either way, it didn't really matter.

"Life, isn't about how you satisfy your hunger, it's about how you help other people satisfy theirs." Delphi declared decisively.

As James nodded he reached into the folds of his jacket.

"Got it right in one Delphi. What you need to keep in mind is that all it takes is one good day to elevate any normal person into a hero for life. That's how far you are from where I am Delphi. Just one good day.

By the way... I was going to give this to you after we got back from the monastery, but then things sort of got out of hand. Consider it a exchange from one library to another..." James produced a well thumbed tome and pressed it into Delphi's hands.

"The Land of the Mists..." She muttered.

Delphi recognized the title, it was the same book she had been reading right before James and the others arrived.

She flipped through the pages, past Dementlieu, past Richemulot, past Borca...

"Dorvinia..." She whispered the word slowly as she realized that James' version of the book wasn't missing half of its pages.

"It's a little outdated, that's why mom let me have it, Dorvinia itself doesn't really exist anymore, but it's the exception not the rule. Anyway, I noticed your copy came to a stop..." James began to explain.

"Right before it got to the same general region as Markovia. Convenient." Mirri finished.

Delphi's fingers flipped past a few more pages, and sure enough she saw the name "Markovia" and then promptly slammed the book shut.

"I'll read it, just not today." She promised, though she was unsure if she was talking to James or to herself.

"I wish there was something that I could give you in return..." She reflected.

"Charming as all this is, Akanga wants us off his island as fast as soon possible. I found Wolf Claw in Markov's private room but we still need to cut down several trees, have Florence use vines to bind them together and shape them into some kind of boat for us, assuming she's still got enough power left for something like that today." Alexander reflected having joined Mirri in the doorway to Delphi's room.

"If you need a boat, you could take my... Markov's." She offered.

"Markov's what now?" Alexander repeated, clearly feeling rather wrong-footed.

Delphi blushed slightly..

"Well like I told you back during our first meal together I like to swim. But Markov told me that he didn't, so when I'd go out swimming, he'd row out after me in his boat..." She began.

"More likely he flat out couldn't swim." Delphi's door frame was doubtlessly starting to get very cramped given that Devi Skye had joined her two companions in the doorway.

"Markov might have been able to make himself look vaguely human, but there's one thing humans, well demi-humans have going for them that most primates don't. We're less dense than water, a gorilla on the other hand, even one with a human head would have to fight to keep his head above water with every passing second." Devi pointed out.

Delphi just sighed, animal anatomy was one of the last things she wanted to think or talk about at the moment.

"I'll show you where the boat is, and hopefully you can use it to get back to the mainland..." Delphi offered figuring it was the least she could do.

"So long as you're offering things..." In order to fit in Cal Wright was apparently down on his knees his head alone visible as it stuck through the door at waist height.

"Funny thing happened when I went through Markov's private storeroom. Turns out that ruling Markovia was actually pretty profitable back when it was part of the Core. Well that or he just kept all the cash that any of his 'patients' had on hand when he captured them and it added up over time..." The alchemist announced with delight.

Delphi could hear the sound of a bag full of coins jingling out of sight and heads were turned in the dirty blond's direction.

"What? I already asked Akanga, he's cool with it. These things are just so many shiny rocks to him, most of them too soft for even use as weapons or armor. Meanwhile back in the Core, I'd say it's enough to buy, oh let me be pessimistic and guess it's only worth a duke's ransom." Cal chuckled with delight.

"Look, all you either get out of my doorway or come into my room. Actually just get out of my room, I'm going to need to change clothes and put on some new shoes before I show you were the boat is." The four adventures hanging about the door quickly vanished.

James took slightly longer, as stood up, stretched, and ended up stopping about halfway out.

"Say, an idea just struck me. So long as you and Akanga are giving away stuff that Markov no longer needs, I think there were still two of those huge rats left..." He pointed out eagerly.

"Take them, that's how I help you satisfy your hunger." Delphi responded with a grin.

XXX XXX XXX

"Oh joy another long boat ride and this one is even smaller. Well have fun paddling!" Mirri reflected as she shamelessly reached into Devi's bag of holding, pulled out her coffin, threw its lid open, collapsed inside and shammed it shut quite firmly.

Sure enough Markov's boat was smaller than the Sunset Empires. It wasn't much more than a large canoe in truth. On the other hand, it was large enough for six good friends (or five good friends and one coffin).

"If you ever feel like coming back..." Delphi began.

"We won't." Cal cut her off prompting James of all people to deliver a swift elbow to his side.

"If we ever come back we'll make sure to pay you a visit. I hope Akanga rule proves more peaceful than Markov's." The werecat replied a great deal more tactfully.

There were no more words left to be said at that point, the adventures got into the boat, Alexander took first shift at the paddles while the others did what they could to amuse themselves from counting newly gained coins to writing letters.

XXX XXX XXX

Dear Dame Renier

My friends and I all learned an important lesson this week, never judge a book by its cover. Someone may look unusual or funny, or scary, but you have to look past that and learn who they are inside. The same way that someone who may seem helpful or nice at first might end up trying to vivisect your friends! So if you judge a book only on its cover, you may end up getting taxidermied and turned into glue to bind books with!

PS: That's why I'm glad that I can always trust you, because of how much you've done to help my family since before I was even born!

PPS: Keekees not being able to talk is not the book cover, it's the chapter index.

PPPS: Also I learned that Markovia is now located off the coast of Larmordia. Not sure how useful you'll find that since we're landlocked and what not but I'm sure our allies in Mordent and Dementlieu might want to know about it! Of course it's all jungily now and still, well... Markovia, even if it is under new management so I'm not sure if they really have anything worth trading for and it's not like we need more space, but I figured the location of misplaced landmasses is the kind of thing you might find useful all the same.

Your Faithful Servant:  
>Longhair.<p>

End Book.

FN: And that's a wrap for this book, narratively speaking at least. I'm going to do one more thing with it, a director's cut of sorts were I talk about this adventure itself, my thought process in adapting it, suggestions if you were actually going to run it, so on and so forth.

I will make no excuses for Akanga's actions, he actually is probably going to be headed for Darklordship if he keeps up doing to Markov as Markov did to him (torture sadistic is a 10% powers check if you're doing it to an evil character its an act of ultimate darkness against anyone else. On the other hand, it's strange to think that in theory Darklordship of Markovia might (should?) pass to him. There are at least two good examples (Claude Renier to Jacqueline Renier and Bakholis To Gabrielle Aderre) where if someone kills a Darklord they end up becoming the new Darklord of the realm. On the other hand, Markov isn't dead/can't die (both the Table of Life and if removed form it at -10 and below hit points or below where normal people would die his just becomes a chaos spawn like mass of protoplasm slowly changing from shape to shape and recovering to zero hit points if left alone for 24 hours) so in theory he shouldn't be able to loose darklordship of Markovia. On the other hand has ever it been officially said that Malocchio officially took darklordship from his mother in the process of taking political control of Invidia? I'm not sure/would like to know. Either way, if Akanga doesn't leave Markov's scalpels to rust then Markovia's future may end up being little brighter than its past.

As for that letter at the end, it is exactly what you think it is, and yes I am going to close out every single book with one of them. What? It's a perfectly reasonable framing device! Also, don't strain your brain thinking about who "Longhair" is, considering who is described doing what, who Longhair is writing to, it really should be pretty obvious.

As for what comes next, well given the episodic nature of the Monster Party stories, and the fact that in Ravenloft THERE IS NO CONTINUITY THERE IS ONLY THE MISTS I'm not going to be that uptight about what order I write /post these stories in.

So after each story I'll try to give you three choices for what will come next. Normally there would be one for each couple but since James and Mirri just got a book to themselves they won't be in the running this time, so that somebody else can have the spot light.

1: Wolves will eat your skin, if you let them in!

In the eternal chill of Vorostokov survival is the ultimate challenge. Only the greatest hunters can gather enough food to feed their families through one night of eternal winter after another. But even the human hunters must beware the four legged predators who slink through the woods. Something evil stirs in this frosty domain, can Alexander Diamondclaw and Florence Bastien finally bring spring back to a land that has not seen it for a generation?

2: Forgive me my mistakes, I'm only human.

In the shadowy forests of Tepest, the inquisition has begun their latest trial. A woman who was disfigured from birth is accused of bewitching a man, a crime for which if found guilty there can only be one punishment, burning at the stake. Alexander Diamondclaw and Florence Bastien will need to plunge into the woods if they wish to get to the bottom of this mystery, but what if the accuser needs their protection just as much as the accused?

3: On a sidewalk, blue Sunday morning' lies a body just oozing' life.

A killer walks the streets of Paridon, a killer who returns every thirteen years to slay six victims at the stroke of midnight over the course of six consecutive nights. The process has run like infernal Clockwork for 12 repetitions, and why should this killer not have his way for a 13th time? Because Cal Wright armed with his trusty firearm Phoenix and lovely sidekick Devi are here to raise an objection to such mindless slaughter (and maybe even get paid in the process!) But with no clues other than the bodies lacking blood an entire city full of potential suspects can he gather enough evidence to pinpoint the killer before it's too late?

Post your comments/votes here!


	16. Chapter 16

Monster Party Book 1 Adventure Commentary: Author Commentary Neither Man Nor Beast.

Okay lets talk about this adventure in full and how it affected my writing of it, not to mention possibly a few hints if you were ever going to run it.

For one thing someone once said online that if you were going to run it don't tell your players its name and don't even let them see the book cover. That's perfectly reasonable advice given how much of this adventure is played around misdirection.

To truly follow along 100% with what I'm talking about, try finding your own copy of the Ravenloft adventure called "Neither Man nor Beast" but I'll try and not have my comments be dependent upon someone having already read the book.

You start out, in basically any port side town with a simple mission to return some faux cursed bauble which will require a boat trip that leads you to the Sunset Empires.

In the book Captain Stewart is supposed to be a lot kinder, and more fun loving as long as he's on land and only then turn into a major hard ass once he gets out to sea. Since it doesn't talk about him being cursed I can only assume that this is the result of him taking some sort of perverse delight (well okay he obviously needs to do it for the money also) when he lures passengers onto his ship and then starts bossing them around once they're out at sea and they can't do anything about it.

That might work in theory but still I have to think that even in Ravenloft word would get around of what a bitch in sheep's clothing you are. So instead I had him be tough and gruff throughout, our group knew he wasn't going to be very nice from the get go, but he was more or less the only game in town, while at the same time our protagonists were the only passengers in town who needed to travel by ship at the moment so it behooved both sides to come to some kind of agreement.

Right off the bat Alexander showed that being Chaotic Good he has no hesitation to resort to half truths or even outright lies even when dealing with people who aren't mustache curling baby impaling evil. (Florence by comparison being Neutral Good will only lie to villains not to bog standard NPCs)

James of course takes pity on the black leopard because he feels a kinship with all thing feline, and Cal manages to cover for him, by pointing out that the leopard is worth a lot more alive than dead so Captain Stewart should keep his men from physically harming it for their amusement. Captain Stewart and his crew really are a pretty unlikeable bunch in a lot of ways, and to avoid driving the point home overmuch (if they got too villainous an outright confrontation would have broken out and that wouldn't have ended well for anyone unless Alexander waited till they had reached their destination to start the fight) I left out some of the worst stuff they do like trying to harpoon dolphins which even bI/b know to be a major no no for sailors up there with shooting down albatrosses.

The attack of the Soul Kraken (that beast with the translucent tentacles) worked fine, though I skimped a little on the fight topside I'll admit.

After that, our heroes get washed ashore, I decided to drop the part of the adventure which says that Delphi and her friends (seal based broken ones) were responsible for our protagonists survival (it involves seeing flashes of Delphi's face as the characters are about to pass out from drowning) because I wanted her to be completely surprised when they met our protagonists.

In fact, though I might be skipping ahead a little lets talk about how I wrote Delphi for this adventure.

She's a little more villainous in the book, where she knows that her father will dissect people (it is unclear if she knows that he' Frantisek Markov or not) and accepts that as part of his nature and there being nothing wrong with being true to your nature.

I decided to step up Markov's duplicity in regards to her (yes that book she's talking about is missing half of its pages because Markov tore out anything that could implicate him then made it look like weather/time related damage) and get rid of the possibility that she would follow Markov's orders to help subdue the group should he order it.

Because this is a story and not an adventure, I have greater control over the lens through which one perceives the events taking place. When running an adventure, the story is almost always perceived solely through the lens of the PCs and what their characters end up seeing, the idea of doing scenes from Delphi or Felix's point of view just wouldn't really be possible in a more traditional RPG set up. As an author telling a story it very much is.

But, to avoid giving the game away (it wouldn't do to have Delphi thinking about how these people are so nice, she hopes her father doesn't end up vivisecting them like he did their last group of guests) it was necessary to obscure the truth from Delphi so that in turn she could unintentionally obscure the truth from the reader.

Anyway, getting back to approaching things in chronological order, our protagonists wake up and start to try to take stock of their surroundings. In the adventure book there are no rat based broken ones, however, I deduced that given that Markov was keeping some giant rats in his menagerie and what would yield the most drama/suspense /make for the best story, yes there should be rat broken ones, lots of them.

That allowed me to play up what a weakness James' diet could be (I'm still not sorry for the "but the rats, why are the rats gone?" line) and in general follow some advice from Kurt Vonnegut. "Be a sadist. No matter how sweet and innocent your leading characters, make awful things happen to them—in order that the reader may see what they are made of." Well James ends up going without food for at least 48 hours and it's clearly not the least bit of a fun experience for him.

It was also very important for another reason; if it was not for the rat broken ones, the climax of this story would seem a little out of left field. After all, Alexander was the one Markov was going to operate on first, Alexander was the one who talked with him the most during the meals, why is it that James is the one who fights Markov in the last chapter?

Because while Markov was GOING to do horrible things to Alexander, he already HAS DONE horrible things to James.

He's transformed Markovia into a land where the sentient eat the sentient (in the book it's pretty clear that broken ones routinely hunt/eat each other) and that's a principle/way of life that horrifies and repulses James Firecat to his very core.

Remember, Ravenloft wants to make werecreatures become chaotic evil and eat sentient flesh, or at the very least that's the end affect the domain drives them towards, so if the Dark Powers expressly want it to happen or not it doesn't really matter. James thus fights an uphill battle every day to keep his alignment where it is and his stomach full, being in a land where there are more sentient animals than non sentient animals really does not agree with him.

If the group ever visited the Wildlands (a domain which is basically the Ravenloft equivalent of the Jungle Book gone bad) he'd be pretty much reduced to eating piles of flies since they're the only animal in the entire domain that doesn't talk.

Granted the way the Ravenloft rules are written I think you're allowed to kill someone in self defense, and then eat them even if they were sentient without power check/alignment adjustment check, it's only hunting someone down and killing them with the purpose of eating them in mind that makes you turn CE, but that might just be rules layering so James will never do it.

Getting back on topic, Markov was going to operate on Alexander's brain, but having to eat sentient flesh (and starvation along with the need to be strong for Mirri would have driven James to it sooner or later if he wasn't able to find some non-sentient prey) would be a black mark upon James' very soul.

I'm not being overly dramatic there, James is an "Innocent" in Ravenloft mechanics terms, not only has never failed a dark powers check, he's never done anything evil enough to warrant one. He'll be a very different character if he ever looses that particular trait.

Thus, James comments on finally catching a rat are not just about his prior hunting difficulties, they are him taking pride in the fact that he has finally tracked down the one who made Markovia into such a twisted mess and brought them to justice.

The suffering that Markov caused James was not intended, it was not personal, but to quote Captain Carrot of Discworld, "Personal is not the same as important." So that is why why cinematicaly speaking, I wanted to arrange for it to be James who took down Markov.

Moving on, after a day of putzing about doing this and that "Doctor Fran"/Markov shows up. It's at this point that I have another simple but important quibble with the book.

I'm pretty sure that it's only in Tepest where people don't have last names. Doctor Fran, Orson and Felix are all presented without last names (so is Delphi but if Doctor Fran had a last name she would have adopted it obviously) and should have last names in my opinion. Heck, "Doctor Fran" doesn't even have a proper first name!

So I decided that Fran should be short for Francis and then despite Alexander's comments about not using an anagram later on, I did indeed throw Frantisek Markov into an anagram generator and "Vaster" was one of the words that ended up being among the results, I liked the way it looked so I went with it.

As for Felix and Orson their last names are in theory huge red flags, but I doubted any of you noticed them. Both of them have last names which are the same as the second half of the species name they are derived from, (well they don't say what kind of bear Orson is so I went with Brown or Ursus Arctos, but Unica is very much the second half of Panthera Unica or Snow Leopard) which I felt was not too obvious but a nice hint that something might be going on behind the scenes.

The next problem I have is that as Markov is explaining the situation he calls his broken ones, well broken ones.

If they used to be called that before the Grand Conjunction (I'm not sure but I think they were) when Markovia was part of Ravenloft's Core then just by using the same name for them he's giving away a huge hint that he really shouldn't.

Granted this adventure was originally written as a "weekend in hell" style adventure where the heroes would not have originally been from Ravenloft, but there were touches here and there about how it might be adapted for a team starting out in Ravenloft, this is another area where such a touch should have been noted.

Have him call them Beastmen, (I know that is the name of another monster completely which you primarily meet in G'Henna I don't care) or Monstermen, Beastlings, Homo-Beastalis, Devolved, Plague Cursed, Misshapen... any of the above should work just fine and if the heroes don't know the monsters are directly called broken ones (there are a lot of monsters out there that look like half human half animal creatures after all) they won't have a red flag go up warning them that they are in Markovia, because once they know that they're probably gonna start looking for a guy with green eyes who has a human face, but nothing about the rest of him is human, and then the games is given away before it can even start.

Florence of course being a Dryad spots that the tree set up is wrong (Markovia has suffered some major geographic shock being taken from a temperate highland in the Core to becoming a tropical island and the plants are adapting as best they can) but sadly unaware of what possible context to put this information in the heroes can't do anything with it.

Then they reach the estate itself and meet Delphi. I decided to have Delphi fall for James because they're the closest together in ages (I think nobody's age is really stated all that clearly but I decided to say Delphi is very late teens/very early twenties or at least that's how old she looks to be human wise, it's not very clear how old she used to be as a dolphin before Markov got to her, and how old she looked to be as a human girl afterward. For all I know she went from being less than a year old Dolphin calf to a fifteen year "old" human girl with amnesia about her life before the island) and because James is easily the most romantic of the three heroes.

Sadly for Delphi while James is very much a romantic at heart, he's also quite taken with (and by) Mirri, so while he's always polite, cheerful, helpful, and good natured to her he has no romantic interest in her at all.

Also Delphi helps me establish what is going to be one of the running themes of Monster Party... what people see is less important than what context they see it in. Both Delphi and then Felix at first (and Felix only sorts it out because so long as he has food in his belly James will always be ready to shoot his mouth off and then refuses to let good meat go to waste, so he brought the deer Felix saw him kill in hybrid form back to the estate) are certain that James' hybrid form has to be a feline broken one of some sort.

That's entirely reasonable, following the old principle of if you hear hoof beats think horse not zebra. In Markovia if you see a creature that is a mix of man and beast, think Broken One not lycanthrope. This reliance upon "context" to fully comprehend what you see, is one of those reasons why Mirri gets away with walking around with pale skin and bright red eyes.

If she was on her own and at night context would say vampire. As part of a group of adventurers, well context says adventurer.

It doesn't help that the rules are frustratingly vague about how "in character" someone either succeeding or failing against her charm gaze should be of what just happened. Even Van Richten's Guide to Vampires doesn't clarify this particular issue sadly and honestly it really should given that 90% of it is written in universe.

So to keep things internally consistent I'm going to say that all such charm, dominate, suggestion and what not mental attacks are only known to be mental attacks if the defender rolls a critical success against them.

Otherwise they either fall under the affect without realizing it in character or they don't fall under the affect but in character also don't realize someone was trying to control their minds. If there's a precedent for a different interpretation please let me know.

So moving on, next we have the meal scene.

This is a very well written (okay well designed it's more like two and a half pages of bullet points to come up as the meal goes on) scene and I tried to touch on as many of the ones listed as possible.

Delphi shows herself to be nearly as extroverted as James, and our werecat is of course happy to focus on memories of better days rather than dwelling on his own still effectively empty stomach. In the process he reveals that in point of fact James Firecat is no different from any other hero in Ravenloft, he must suffers from the vices of his virtues.

Given that wisdom is James' semi-obviously his dump stat (being a lycanthrope helps some but just not enough) who has a penalty to sense motive due to being an Innocent, he is a notoriously soft sell. James' continued adoration of and loyalty toward Jacqueline Renier is an important defining aspect of his character (I'm not saying James is destined to spend his life in the service of chaotic evil women of noble bearing who look younger than they really are and have bichromatic hair and the power to control rats, but in all honestly, yeah he has a type) as it marks him as just about the only member of the group who is a patriot in regard to their homeland.

Once the meal is finished, we get to see Doctor Fran's library and the Book Of Insufferable Darkness. It's a cheap laugh, but I've never afraid to include a few cheap laughs here or there, after all you need to let the tension get a chance to dissipate before you can start building it up again.

Beyond that we have the contents of Markov's Menagerie which as I said is taken straight from the book. It is in no way my fault that he was keeping giant rats in there, which happened to be exactly what James needed.

So then we get to Markov's painting session with Mirri.

I loved writing this scene, because we got to see two evil characters who were both trying to pass themselves off as normal people to interact. Such scenes typically go one of two ways icy hostility or unspoken unexplained connection. I went with the later.

So with that said, it's entirely possible to argue that Mirri "lost" this scene, in so far as she "blinked" first and was not able to keep herself from revealing her true nature while Markov kept up his Doctor Fran persona throughout the entire scene and didn't clue Mirri into in as to what was going on.

Frantisek was of course delighted with Mirri's ability to turn into a lioness because it let him draw her as such. Unsurprisingly given that he's had a lot more experience "working" with animals than people Markov knows animal anatomy better than he does human anatomy so he can draw Mirri much better as a lioness than he could as a person.

Sadly I'm not quite so sure if this scene works well in the adventure book, because what makes it interesting in the story is that Mirri has just as much to reveal and or hide as Markov does. So the scene gets to escalate playfully with both Mirri and Markov hiding daggers behind their smiles (not necessarily aimed at each other of course) rather than just a picture being painted.

If you do this scene, make sure that the heroine in question has a thing or two to hide, or is very much in love with herself and will be willing to chat up Markov just for the joy of talking about herself as part of getting her picture painted.

After that, James gets his food and Delphi gets to have a great deal of stress and trauma dumped on her shoulders (remember my earlier Kurt Vonnegut quote? That applies twice over to Delphi as much as it applies to James in this story. Hell I even got some perverse pleasure from it at times...)

The Felix hunting scene is good, since it gets to hint at something being slightly off with him, but at the same time it is a long way from being irrefutable proof that Doctor Fran is Frantisek Markov. If you are really stealthy and speak cat, it can also reveal that Felix is really in Akanga's corner (sadly James was too busy hunting deer when Felix was doing his initial report and only caught up with him afterwards) which will play a very big part in the end of the game.

I omitted the scene of Doctor Fran going out to talk with his broken ones, because that reveals a bit too much of his true identity, he calls himself Diosamblet, he proves that he doesn't just have a pact with the broken ones to get them to leave him alone, he actively has control of them, it's impossible to take him at face value or trust him from that point on. Our heroes are more than smart enough to have figured it out from that clue, so I didn't give it in order to maintain suspense.

After that, they head out for the monk temple. I ignored the scene of Akanga having some of his broken ones attack the group, because really it doesn't make sense for Akanga to sour relations with those he eventually wants to recruit and at the same time get some of his own followers killed off.

I get that maybe the book needed a way to get some cold iron weapons into the heroes hands to give them a chance against the undead monks they are about to encounter. There has to be a better way to do it then Akanga throwing broken ones at the heroes though, if you want a suggestion have your heroes encounter two groups of broken ones that are currently fighting, and whatever the heroes do the winners of the fight will vanish back into the jungle leaving behind their weapons to flee faster. That will give the heroes cold iron weapons, raise the question of why are broken ones fighting one another and put the heroes on edge without being explicit about anything else.

Then we get to the monastery, our heroes take the most direct and simple path in order to get there thanks to James, they try and knock. The basket that is lowered can only hold 800 pounds or around 4 people, but luckily once James reduces himself to his cat form and Mirri turns into a cloud of mist/smoke/air that floats up on her own taking them up under the weight limit.

That takes us to the undead monks. I have a lot to say here.

Okay, I like the idea that they're undead and don't know it, it's interesting when characters have abilities they may not be fully aware of and come to the fore in interesting ways.

To pick one example, I'm sorely tempted to say that James has the Lichloved feat (lets ignore the normal perquisite feat that involves getting an evil symbol tattooed on your body) which you can only acquire via... look the feat is called "Lichloved" lets just say that applies to any form of intelligent undead and move on from there. James is of course unaware of this fact, and has no idea why mindless undead aren't even going to notice him, and often doesn't even notice that they aren't paying attention to him since they'll pay plenty of attention to the group as a whole.

It's something you can do in a story a lot easier than you can do in an rpg, but it's an interesting concept to play around with that there may be information on the character sheet that the character himself is unaware of. Though of course pulling it off requires you to have good role-players who can separate in an out of of character knowledge.

I also don't have an issue with the fact that Father Milhouse and the others have no last names here unlike with Doctor Fran and company, because spooky religious order members are allowed to just be known as Brother, Father, Sister... It's in the rules for that kind of thing.

What I don't like can be boiled down into three salient bullet points.

1: The monks end up ruining the promise of the premise of this adventure.

What do I mean by that phrase? Well it's something I heard during the commentaries for Leverage (great show, heck "sometimes bad guys make the best good guys" could be Monster Party's tag line) and it works like this. "The promise of the premise" is when you hear an outline of a particular adventure/movie/book/other form of media, from that outline alone you can imagine one scene which will be key and must take place to get all the good that can possibly be had from the idea.

The promise of the premise of Return of the Jedi is seeing Luke Skywalker match lightsabers again with Dark Vader after having gained a bunch of xp, some levels and upped his wisdom score.

The promise of the premise of Bioshock 2 is that moment when you finally get to be reunited with your little sister, no matter how many splicers and other big daddies you need to fight your way through first.

The promise of the premise of Phoenix Wright is that you'll get to shout OBJECTION!, cause the prosecuting Attorney to undergo character development, and watch the real culprit break down in front of an entire courtroom before being dragged off to jail while the judge declares "NOT GUILTY" and confetti gets thrown every which way.

The promise of the premise of any Arkham Game is getting to glide out of the shadows and punch out several dozen mooks while declaring I'm BATMAN and listen to Kevin Conroy be Batman while Mark Hamill does the Joker (if Joker is in the game if he isn't well I'll settle for just Mr. Conroy as Bruce Wayne/Batman), and honestly I am not ashamed to say I can recognize Mark Hamill's joker better than I can his Luke Skywalker.

When I was reading the adventure book introduction for Neither Man Nor Beast, I immediately had a pair of scenes materialize in my mind.

One of them was the heroes doing that "alone with the villain" scene you see in so many movies but I'm not quite sure what the trope name for is. You'll know what I mean once I describe it though. In Iron Man 1 Pepper Pots has just discovered that Obadiah is responsible for Tony Stark being kidnapped by hacking his computer when he walks into the room.

She has to hide the fact that she's got a hacking device hooked up to his machine, and hold a polite conversation with him, while all she wants to do is run screaming from the room. Everything they say to one another ends up being deeply layered with double meaning and she just barely manages to get out of there by the skin of her teeth before he realizes how much she knows.

In this adventure that would be the equivalent of having a dinner with Markov while you know he's Markov but at the same time can't leave before dinner because that would be much too impolite and so you have to sit there and smile as Markov talks about his work researching animals, his experiences with vivisection and so and so forth with every passing moment making the heroes wonder if Markov knows they are onto him but can't risk giving the game away by starting the fight.

There's NOTHING like this scene in Neither Man Nor Beast.

The other scene is to have the villain reveal his true identity /motive and gloat over the captured heroes in a "No Mr. Bond I expect you to die!" (possibly a bad example Goldfinger doesn't give away any of his plot in that scene but you know what I mean) kind of way as the heroes are subjected to all the rage and malice he has pent up for so long by pretending to be a normal person. There is a scene like that, but the problem is that the only way to get it is to refuse to try and go to the monastery (why wouldn't the heroes go, breaking into the fortresses of evil cults and making off with their maguffins is what they do) and it is also way too likely to lead to the heroes getting turned into broken ones/dieing.

If the heroes learn that Doctor Fran is really Frantisek Markov from the monks by reading a History of Markovia then there is horror at the realization, but there's no fear. They are shocked at what they have done, but they are not in any immediate danger from Doctor Fran's reprisals

If you want to get the most out of a Ravenloft adventure or story you need to mix together the existential soul deep effects of horror ("I can't believe I ate a meal with and agreed to help a mass murdering psychopath who likes to vivisect people, I'm a horrible person!") with the immediate animal like effects of fear ("Oh crap that mass murdering vivisectionist is right outside the door, how long can I keep him from realizing that I know his secret?") and the adventure as written honestly in my opinion fails to do that.

If you're going to run this adventure my suggestion is make sure the heroes end up finding Doctor Fran's journals with time to read them before the meal where he makes the offer for them to go to the monastery. They'll of course agree all to readily just to get out of the house and away from him, but at the same time that entire meal they should have the hair on the back of their neck pricking straight up (Doctor Fran may even comment on it kindly telling them that he's sure adventures of their skill have nothing to truly fear so they should relax at least a little) waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Okay lets move onto my other two problems.

The smaller problem is that the following line "The larges building in the monastery is a great Temple where the Table of Life is stored, protected, and venerated."

WHAT?!

Why is the Table of Life "venerated" by these monks? They know it's an evil artifact, the thing basically only "useful" purpose is for helping sadists be more sadistic by making it so their captives don't die.

Okay yes it could be used as an emergency ambulance kind of bed where you get someone onto it to keep them alive until they can be taken to someone with the magic to cure them, but clearly the Table of Life is an evil artifact and any life saving applications are secondary to the entire torture prolonging applications. Father Milhouse is described as having personally been among the monks who first recovered the Table, he should know that it is bad mojo just waiting to happen.

So yeah, in my adventure the monks very much do NOT venerate the Table of Life, they're treating it like an armed but not activated (as in a flip of a switch will start the countdown but its not actively about to go off any second) nuclear bomb. This is a terrible dangerous thing, and since we can't fight any safe way to disarm /destroy it best we keep it close because if some evil person got their hands on it then the damage they could do with it would be nightmarish.

The even bigger problem I have is that there's NOTHING in the book about what to do if the adventurer's can prove to Father Milhouse and the others that they are undead.

Yeah that's not incredibly likely to happen, but there are enough clues for the heroes that they should have a chance at it. Mirri made it easy because she can hear heart beats (or the lack there of) but even normal adventurers should raise a stink over the entire "not needing to eat" thing and from there it could go any number of ways from the heartbeat test Cal gave, to a cure/inflict spell being used on them to show how they are currently powered by negative energy.

So what I did was assume that the intact monks were still themselves but the withered monks had degenerated to zombie level intelligence, upped the number of withered of monks so that they vastly outnumbered the intact ones, and let things unfold from there.

The sledding down the mountain while riding the Table of Life scenes was one that I really enjoyed the mental image of, and it gave Cal a chance to really shine by both taking a very difficult shot which cut off the quickest avenue of pursuit, and then handing out lots of healing potions.

If your heroes attempt to escape by sledding down the side of the mountain of the table of Life let them. Play the scene to the hilt and have fun with it, remember a good D&D game even one in Ravenloft should leave the heroes with some memories they can feel warm and happy about and the escape on the Table of Life scene to me is a wonderful D&D version of the sledding across the boarder on a chello case scene in the James Bond film Living Daylights.

After that we don't have the scene with the half man half leopard or running into Akanga because once again don't want to give away the game before we can reach the apex of fear of horror.

Our heroes get back catch their breath, think they've seen the worst, and then sure enough things promptly get much much worse for them.

That brings us to the Alexander bound to the Table of Life scene.

His misquoting of a certain adage was very much intentional, Alexander considers the situation from his dream much more dangerous/desperate than the one he is currently in (Alex also has the "Dead Man Walking feat, he's stared what should have been certain death in the face, doing it again holds nothing new for him.

If you can't tell, I had fun, a lot of fun writing the scene with Alexander and Markov bantering back and forth while Alex was strapped to the table. Markov was finally letting his mask down (as our silver haired protagonist noted he finally got Alex's last name right, though of course even more tellingly afterwards Markov starts calling him by his first name while Doctor Fran always called him "Mr. DiamondXXXX".

The two get to play off each other wonderfully and when it becomes clear that you can't poke logical holes in the plans of a crazy surgeon (okay you can, he just won't care) by that point Alex has gained enough insight into Markov's personality that he manages to use his own overinflated ego against him, as Markov all too readily agrees to remove Alexander's eyepatch, and then is so drawn in by what he sees that he doesn't even think to worry about why Alexander might have wanted him to remove that eyepatch so badly.

I am especially proud of managing to work in the line "You could say I'm symptomatic" and give it honestly an even bigger "Wham" factor than it did when a different Alexander said it to a different Doctor. (It's a Prototype reference if you didn't know)

After that, he escape and since Markov planned to spring his trap in the morning he doesn't have a bunch of broken ones waiting to pounce just yet.

So yes, Delphi got character development out of it, so it didn't matter if Alexander was perfectly capable of rescuing himself, in letting his mask down to Alexander Markov also let it down to his daughter (even in the book he doesn't know about Delphi's habit of going swimming at night) and Delphi is loyal to Francis Vaster not Frantisek Markov in this version of the story.

Also we can see a mni-character arc with Delphi between this chapter and the epilogue. From chapter 12 until the epilogue having had her perceptions of James being the perfect heroic knight shattered, she's constantly thinking the worst possible of him. It's intended to show Delphi's somewhat childish outlook on life, James is either prefect hero or the worst villain possible, and it's not till the epilouge that she realizes that even James Firecat can have layers to him.

It also doesn't help that she clearly fails her horror check upon seeing him transform in chapter 13 with an "aversion" result though the fact that there's nowhere safe to run to keeps her from fleeing like normal.

Speaking of chapter 13, now we get to meet Akanga.

I've made him a slightly nicer person in the the story than he was in the book. In the book he's said to be Neutral Evil (I'm not on your side, our sides just happen to be side by side at the moment) but that didn't really click for me.

If Akanga was a purely self serving neutral evil type wouldn't he have been willing to do what Felix did, and stay in Markov's estate while planning to back-stab him at the most opportune moment? Instead I decided to make it clear (it's hinted at in the book as I read it) that he felt such revulsion at the things Markov did that he could not bear to live in the same house as him, even if it meant giving up the modern conveniences of the estate for the wildness of the jungle.

That he wasn't willing to compromise his morals/standards/principles/whatever you want to call them to even show Markov a fake smile while he planned how to kill him, that's not the behavior of someone who is neutral evil in my book.

The principle of Akanga and Delphi hooking up together is lifted directly from the book (it's what happens to Delphi is the heroes don't take her with them when they leave the island) so I decided to expand on the idea. Akanga wants Delphi (to start with at least) because she's a symbol of how he's supplanted Markov. In turn Delphi starts to become at least somewhat open to the prospect as she realizes that whatever else he may be, at least Akanga wears his nature on his sleeve unlike most of the people she's met/gotten to know.

So then we have the big fight at the end.

I really wish that they could have given us some visual aids for what the terrain outside Markov's estate is like. We get a visual over head look at it and its buildings, but I would have felt much more confidence about how this was all playing out if I could have seen some "before" and "after" pictures of what Markov's surroundings look like in regards to the fires that Akanga sets.

I think that sadly the book rushes a little too quickly to resolve the battle to get into Markov's lab just having the heroes fight three broken ones each. If you're running this adventure don't be afraid to let the spell casters run wild if they have the right spells for the situation. (The fact that Akanga had everyone rest for the night let Florence pick and choose exactly the arsenal she wanted for curb stomping a bunch of people in a jungle environment who didn't have any magic of their own, that or she's an alternate version of a druid who gets her spells in the sorcerer style, I'll stand by the later interpretation for the rest of these stories/compose a mock spell list for her to prove it).

Huge battles between good and evil tend not to happen in D&D or at least they're restricted to the focus on one individual group of characters rather than having huge rolling battlefields with lots of extras.

The reason for this of course is that unlike in Lord of the Rings, D&D characters have much stronger magic, and Gandalf with his burning pine cones is nothing compared to level D6 damage acorns or 8D8 + Level Holly Berries.

Huge wars in D&D are probably going to be decided by magic, this can be a fun time to remind the characters of why this is. On the other hand this adventure is set for early level characters when wizards are the guys who pings a monster to death with magic missile, but hey if you adapt the adventure out of second edition you might also change what level characters are so basically if you want a chance to let your Druidzilla go to town, you'll never find a better one in my opinion.

Also I enjoyed letting Florence go all "HOW DARE YOU" Fluttershy, at this point. I was especially proud of her comments near the end. I was originally going to have her work "I am the reaperman/reaperwoman" in there somehow because I like Discworld but decided against it and the end result is all the better for it in my opinion.

Felix's betrayal needed to be more heavily foreshadowed in my opinion, heck if I know how, maybe if for whatever reason the heroes have any kind of secret that Felix can figure out Akanga should know it but not Markov.

So then we get to Markov who unleashes a horde of... ugghh icky stuff on our heroes.

I honestly love Markov's final attack on the heroes were he somehow commands disembodied viscera.

Heroes will expect to get attacked by zombies in Ravenloft, what they won't expect is to get attacked by disembodied flesh. It's shocking, it makes the final fight something more than beating down a guy with stats no better than your average gorilla, it'll stick in the heroes mind for a good long while afterwards, what is not to love?

Markov just fight tills he goes down in the book but I gave him the best attempt at escape that he could probably have in that situation given his abilities (turn into some kind of small animal flee through bolt hole) because if Markov was smart enough to set up this entire Doctor Fran persona he should have been smart enough to try and set up a backup plan just in case things went south.

Sadly for him, if there's one thing James Firecat excels at, it's catching rats.

Also it should be a facet of Ravenloft that a villain's fall should reflect their sins and their weaknesses, and oh but does Markov's fate ever do that so long as the heroes managed to make off with the Table of Life.

Strapped down to his own evil artifact and then left at the "mercy" of his own creations, sweet sweet painful irony, once again his fate is not likely to be quickly forgotten.

It's one thing to be able to simply kill the evil overlord, it's something else to leave him trapped completely powerless to harm others in a hell that was more or less completely of his own making. It makes his defeat feel all the more complete and total in my opinion.

By the way have Akanga give the heroes some time to search the mansion for loot, I know Ravenloft is a hard setting/low magic but if they don't get a chance to raid Markov's private stores they aren't walking away form this adventure with any money to show for it and that's not fair to the PCs.

Delphi helps the heroes escape most likely and that's just about it.

Also If the heroes bring her with them as they leave the boarders of Markovia Delphi turns back into a dolphin.

What?

Okay, yes this is the only way that the book manages to give us a non-info dump way to let the heroes know that Delphi is a dolphin broken one, but it doesn't make sense in light of the larger adventure!

It's laid out in the back story to this adventure that Markov sent broken ones to Nova Vaasa to retrieve the Table of Life before the grand conjunction. Those broken ones didn't turn back into animals or loose their loyalty to Markov because they got the Table before it was stolen from them and a complicated series of events later Father Milhouse winds up with it. So why does Delphi turn back into a dolphin if she leaves Markovia? Does the rule only apply to the "greater" of Markov's broken ones who look more human? If so, once again why?

I can't find a rational explanation in setting for her to turn into a dolphin at the boarder.

So yeah in my opinion if the heroes leave with Delphi, have her stay with them and be an NPC hanger-on or whatever. Heck, Daughter of a Darklord is an interesting character concept/back story if you want to have another character join up with the group shortly after you run this adventure!

Well, those were my thoughts on Neither Man Nor Beast, and how this story ended up being the way it was. Hope you enjoyed it and don't forget to vote for which adventure to see next! The votes have been counted among all the places I've posted this story and it looks like we're going with option one, so bundle up because book two of Monster Party will take our protagonists on quite the chilling journey!

Before that though there will be another side story going up showing how James and Mirri met for the first time!


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